


Can't Help Falling In Love With You

by dreamingbook



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Injury and recovery, M/M, a mysterious mixtape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingbook/pseuds/dreamingbook
Summary: “Have you found out who sent you the mixtape yet?” Dele asks blinking at him with sleep in his eyes. Eric shakes his head. “I haven’t really started looking yet,”  he frowns and Dele yawns. “Maybe you should.”Yeah. Maybe he should.





	Can't Help Falling In Love With You

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning or good evening. I'm finally done with this story. I hope you all like it <3\. 
> 
> I want to thank Jazzy for being the best and reading through my story and correcting me whenever it was necessary <3  
> (So many 'Thank yous' for you )
> 
> Furthermore you can listen to the mixtape  
> [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/perrydasschnabeltier/playlist/58xawY2osep3ugMJZL1JVw/)
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story and any kind of feedback is always welcome ! <3

The first thing Eric feels is the sharp pain coursing through his body. It starts at his ankle and soon it is everywhere.  

 

Black and white shapes dancing behind his eyelids mixed with red and yellow and the air gets knocked out of his lungs. He knows he’s lying on the ground, one hand holding his ankle reflexively, while the other is clutching at his chest. The pressure doesn’t take the pain away and his eyes start burning. 

 

Eric tries to hold back his tears  but it’s becoming more difficult with every second. There’s no oxygen left for him and he knows he’s choking on the pain. There’s panic rising in his chest, loud and demanding and Eric can’t but give into it. His lungs are screaming for air but he’s not getting it. 

 

His heart is beating painfully against his ribcage and his head is throbbing in sync. There’s too much light and yet not enough that makes it difficult for him to see. It all gets blurry and then there’s pain everywhere and Eric is biting his lips to keep from screaming. 

 

Eric feels the footsteps of  people rushing to him, doctors and players. He faintly notices someone cupping his head, soft hands on his sweaty skin but he doesn’t know who it is. There are voices yelling and talking softly to him but the pain is blinding and deafening him. He can’t understand anything over his own ragged breathing. There’s something being pressed to his face but he doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t know if he’s dying, doesn’t know if he’s going to be alive. He’s not sure when he blacks out.

 

***

 

When he’s drifting back into consciousness he doesn’t know where he is. He’s lying in a soft bed, blankets stuffed around him. The air smells like disinfectant and so disgustingly clean that after a moment of slight disorientation everything becomes clearer. His heart starts beating faster at the prospect of being in a hospital. It’s too loud and Eric presses his hands to his ears at the sound. His head feels like it had been hit several times, heavy in his hands like someone filled it with cement. He doesn’t feel much beside that, his body a sack of coals   like he swallowed a dozen of painkillers. He wonders if he actually has.

 

There’s a chair on the other side of the room, the dark material in contrast to the white walls accompanied by a small table. It’s empty and there’s no one there. Eric feels the panic rising in his chest once again. His head hurts and his throat is dry. He needs water.

 

_ What happened? _

 

He’s scared of looking beneath his blankets, scared if his fear will become true. There’s not much he can remember but the shock that went through him and the crack that shook his whole body, is still heavy behind his eyelids. 

He tries to shove the feeling away. Maybe he’s just delusional and this is all a dream. Maybe he’s still asleep. 

 

_ Maybe that’s what it feels like to never breathe again.  _

 

After Eric calmed down again, a man in a white coat enters the room accompanied by a nurse and Eric wishes his mother is here with him. He’s 25 years old but he wants someone to hold his hand right at this moment and just be there. He wonders where his family is and why they aren’t here.  He just doesn’t want to be alone when the news break, which he knows is going to impossible for him to bear.

 

“You’ve broken your ankle,” the doctor says and Eric swallows the information like a good boy he is but it feels like nails digging into his throat. 

 

A broken ankle.

 

He’s broken the one thing he can’t afford to. He knows what that means and his hands fist themselves into his blankets. His mind is blank, there’s nothing left.

 

“You’re rib is fractured, your cruciate ligament is partly fractured and you -” The doctor looks at his clipboard, flipping the pages. ”Got a concussion.” He says it like he knows exactly what it means for Eric. With a tight smile and compassion in his eyes but Eric doubts the doctor knows what it actually feels like for him hearing those words.

 

Eric feels a blue wave of hopelessness crashing him and he’s beginning to feel dizzy, his mind swimming with thoughts.

 

He’s not listening to the rest of what the doctor is saying, because he knows what all of this entails. He’s going to be out for the rest of the season, maybe even longer. He’s going to spend the rest of the year without the sport in his life, his form gone.

 

He will have to learn everything again. The crushing realisation rolls over him and he’s choking in his own sea of emotions.

 

“The surgery is scheduled, but before we do this, we have to make sure that your concussion is relatively stable.”

 

_ Surgery. _

 

He knows things like that happen in football, he’s seen it often enough. He just never thought it would happen to him. Being on the pitch is not without risk, but he never calculated it before.

 

There had been an incident with a fractured rib years ago but he healed. Now it’s time for him to go through it again. He sighs, because he doesn’t look forward to the pain.

He’s tired like he played for days, his body screaming exhaustion. So when the doctor is gone again, he sleeps.

 

***

  
  


When his Mum is finally allowed to see him, it’s the first time Eric actually allows himself to break down and cry in her arms. She holds him tight stroking his hair and Eric doesn’t care, doesn’t care that he’s supposed to be dealing with it like an adult. He hurts and his Mum tries to make it go away, so he takes it. 

 

“You’ll be okay,” she tells him over and over again and Eric hopes that he’ll believe her one day.

 

***

 

“How are you feeling?” Dele asks him when he visits him in the hospital a day later. He’s dressed in a dark hoodie and dark jeans, cap on his head and Eric is happy to see him. There are dark circles under his eyes and Eric wonders if Dele has slept anytime in the last thirty six hours.  He had been browsing through his phone before Dele entered his room. He’s got a million unread messages but he can’t bring himself to read any of them. The bright screen makes his head hurt anyway, so he doesn’t feel as guilty. Maybe he will  get to them later.

 

He’s glad for any company he can get. After the initial shock of his injury he wants distraction, doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, doesn’t want to worry anymore. The rest of his teammates haven’t been visiting, but Eric doesn’t care because it’s  Dele he wants to see the most anyway.

 

Dele touches Eric’s wrist above the blankets in greeting, brief and gentle before sitting himself next to his bed and leaning himself against back of a chair. Eric recognises it as the one from the corner of his room. It’s not the first time that Eric is grateful for having a single room.

 

“I’m fine.” Eric says even though he’s not. His foot his throbbing, the effects of the painkillers are slowly subsiding, leaving a dull ache. His whole torso hurts and there’s something wrong churning at the bottom of his stomach leaving him slightly sick and nauseous. Plus there’s still the thing that he won’t be able to play for at least 6 months. But Dele knows that.

 

Dele sighs before looking at Eric. He seems tired, his eyes screaming exhaustion and Eric wonders if his friend looks the way Eric feels. He’s sure the yellow hospital light is not making himself look attractive, not that Eric would like to look attractive at all. 

 

He most certainly has a black eye and some bruises around his collarbone, his Mum has already been fussing over him. He loves his mum dearly, but sometimes she’s just too much for him to handle.

 

“You know, it’s not the end of the world.” Dele tries to be encouraging but Eric just shoots him a look.

 

“Don’t lie.” Eric says surly because he wants honesty, expects it from his best friend. He knows how the reality looks like, so there’s no point in lying anyway. Dele looks at him in resignation but he’s not saying anything else.

 

“How did the game end?” Eric asks because he has to. He hopes they won because he doesn’t feel like coping with a loss on top of everything. Dele laughs at him before shaking his head in amusement. 

 

“Really?” he asks, “That’s what you want to know?” 

 

Eric shrugs before grimacing.  _ No shrugging _ , he makes a mental note to himself. His whole body is aching.

 

“We lost.” Dele finally admits but he doesn’t seem fazed by it, whereas Eric frowns. 

 

“So I broke my bones for nothing?” He tries to joke and Dele smiles at him weakly.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,“ Dele tries again. “But I’m glad you broke your ankle.” 

 

Well okay, how was Eric supposed  _ to not _ understand this wrong. He raises his eyebrows in warning, his eyes hard. Dele fiddles with his hoodie before reaching out to Eric again but then deciding against it. 

 

“I thought - We  _ all _ thought.. It looked really bad when we saw you go down. We weren’t sure if you’d even wake up again, Eric. It was-” For a moment Dele seems to struggle with the words, hands rubbing over his face.  “You got a right blow to the head.” 

 

Well okay, no one had told Eric _ that. _ Broken ankle yes, his knee and something about surgery but he’s not sure if he even listened properly.

 

“What exactly happened?” he asks, bringing himself in a more upright position on the bed. He needs to know, needs to hear the full version. His memories are still fuzzy and he’s not sure if he’d be able to watch it on video.

 

Dele watches him for a moment thinking. His eyelids flutter closed for a moment  as if it is painful to just think about it or if he just can’t find the right words. He takes a deep breath before explaining everything to Eric.

 

“You’ve been running with the ball and I think Chris was there somewhere ready to get it from you but..” He scratches his neck for a moment. 

 

“This one guy from city comes over and I don’t know-- it looked like a crash. I think his elbow hit you in the head before you went down completely.” 

 

Dele’s hands are now rubbing over his face. He really looks tired and Eric wonders how long he’s been here at the hospital with him. “Head first,” he adds. “I think I could hear your bones breaking. It was.. then you just started screaming and you lost consciousness.” 

 

How long, he doesn’t add.

 

For a moment Eric says nothing, just trying to process the information.  Eric sees the vulnerability in Dele’s brown eyes. He swallows before stretching his hand out in silent invitation. Dele takes it gratefully and Eric gives their intertwined fingers a light squeeze. 

 

“I’m okay,” he whispers and Dele nods, but not letting go of his hands. They’re soft, while his own ones are rough and Eric remembers the hands cupping his head on the pitch. 

***

 

Hospitals, Eric notices pretty quickly, are depressing and definitely not fun places to hang around. In fact he’s pretty sure that if he’d be able to walk, he would have  been out of the door days ago. 

 

He’s tired of lying in bed, tired of eating bland food and most of all tired of staring at the white walls. There’s no stimulation for his brain and it’s driving him mad. He briefly wonders if it would be acceptable to just hang up some pictures or something with colours. He’s getting bored out of his mind and it bugs him that he can’t even do anything. He’s still pumped up with painkillers to the brim and  he still has trouble breathing. His head is clearer now and the doc told him he would be ready for his surgery on his knee and ankle in a few days. 

 

Eric can’t wait to finally get it done and be done with doing nothing. It’s been merely a few days he’s been here but he’s got enough. He sighs before letting his back fall back against the back of his bed. 

 

It’s not like he’s always alone. He gets plenty of visitors. His family and even his teammates and friends take the trip to visit him. Eric appreciates it but he notices that it’s not curing his itching skin. 

 

Harry came over on Monday two days after the incident, bringing Ivy with him. It makes Eric’s day instantly better. The way the little girl is smiling and him and showing her teeth makes his heart melt. He can’t be anything but in a good mood when she looks at him with her blue eyes and the blond pigtails. She’s almost enough to distract him from his pain. 

 

“I know it sucks,” Harry says while he tries to calm down his daughter , who is bouncing on his lap excitedly. “Take it from someone who’s been there. Patience is the key. Before you know it, everything will be just like it was before. Isn’t that right, Ivy?” Harry presses a kiss on her chubby cheek before his eyes find Eric’s again. “I mean it. There’s no doubt that you won’t make it back.”

 

It’s the middle of January and there’s still a huge mountain for Eric to climb. 

  
  


On Tuesday Ben and Kyle walk into his hospital room carrying a big bouquet of  red Roses. It’s a sight on itself that Eric never expected to see  _ ever _ . He can’t help but laugh. He laughs even harder when his nurse scolds them to stop leaving flower petals across the hospital floor. It hurts like a bitch and the doctor tells him to take it easy, but it’s the best he felt in days. 

 

Sonny and Kevin get there on Wednesday and all three of them spent the day gossiping. It’s not a well known fact about Eric but he loves a good talk like everybody else and it’s refreshing. It’s good getting back to hear how things are back at the club.

 

Sonny gives him an update on everything while Kevin and Eric are listening to the animated talk of their friend. It’s nice and comforting when he hears Kevin say that they are all missing him. It’s been only four days but it feels like a lifetime and he’s glad that he’s part of the team even though he can’t be physically there.

 

“Sonny says he will be scoring extra goals for you.” Kevin says in his german accent and Sonny nods in agreement. 

 

“I will. Fifteen goals. Like your number.”

 

“That’s nice.” Eric says and tries to smile for his friends. 

 

“You need to smile more.” Sonny says and Eric feels busted, because it’s not easy for him to smile these days.

 

“Shhh.” Kevin says and puts a hand on Sonny’s shoulder. “Lass ihn. Ich glaube Lachen ist grade nicht so seine Priorität. Ich würde auch nicht so viel lachen wollen in seiner Situation.” 

 

Eric knows enough to know-  it’s German- but he doesn’t understand what Kevin is saying. It’s not for him anyway. He hears Sonny sighing and then he’s looking at him.

 

“Sorry.”  He apologizes and Eric doesn’t know what for but he accepts it.

 

***

 

On the day of his surgery his mother and Dele are in his room, supposedly to distract him from the procedure but it’s not really working.

 

“Honey, if you keep doing this, you’re gonna get hurt again.” His Mum chides him with a stern look when Eric fidgets with his blankets and is shifting to get into a comfortable position on his bed. 

 

“Yes, your bones are very fragile,” Dele quips from the chair positioned at a small window at the other side of his room. There’s not much to see except the parking lot and a few trees. He’s leafing through a magazine looking unusually focused, especially off the football pitch. 

 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Eric asks annoyed, he has the urge to throw a pillow and Dele grins at him innocently. It’s a miracle that he’s not giggling, Eric thinks.

 

“Boys,” his Mum chastises them. “Now, now, play nicely.” 

 

“Why are you both even here?” Eric asks even though he actually doesn’t have a problem with them being here with him. 

 

“For your entertainment, so you don’t feel so alone.” His Mum says in a tone that suggests that she doesn’t understand why Eric is asking such a stupid question.

 

“I’m not feeling alone.” Eric murmurs, because he doesn’t. He feels a lot these days including boredom and pain. There’s no loneliness he can discover because he’s in fact never  _ alone _ .  “Besides all you do is read magazines. Or look at them in Dele’s case.”

 

“Hey!” Dele says affronted and for a moment he looks  as if he’s considering throwing his Magazine at him. Eric wants to stick out his tongue.

 

“I do read! Sometimes.” Dele adds when Eric shoots him a look. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed, but he is and there’s nothing that can change it. 

 

“Eric, be nice to your boy.” 

 

“He’s not my boy,” Eric says grumpily because he really isn’t. His Mum smooths his hair but she’s ignoring his protest.

 

“He’s right,” Dele says. “I’m my own person.”

His Mum gives him a smile, it’s warm and friendly and it sets Eric off in a way he can’t put his finger on. It’s not a bad feeling but not good either, so he just frowns and decides to ignore it.

 

“No, seriously Dele,” He tries again. “Why are you here? Don’t you have to be at training?” The others have training, Eric knows because they told him yesterday. Dele shrugs, before he’s busying himself with his magazine again. 

 

“Poch gave me the day off.” he says avoiding Eric’s eyes and Eric narrows his own in suspicion.

 

”Poch would never do that.” Eric says because the gaffer is nice but not  _ that  _ nice.

 

He isn’t going to do them any favors, especially with the game they have on saturday and Dele is not a player to just easily replace. 

 

“I’m his favorite. What can I say.” Dele laughs and Eric snorts. “Don’t let Danny hear that.” 

 

“Oh, let him. He needs to be put in his place anyway.” 

 

“Unbelievable.” Eric shakes his head in amusement but their banter gets interrupted when his nurse enters the room again. She’s telling him that he has to get ready for the surgery. He nods as his Mum and Dele get up to tell him goodbye.

 

“Everything will be fine,” his Mum strokes his cheek. Her blue eyes are kind and Eric sees the exhaustion behind them . Her brown hair is drawn into a ponytail and there’s a fine line of worry written on her forehead. The whole situation is not easy on her, he notices and he feels a stab of guilt for putting her through it. It’s not his fault he knows that, but he still got hurt. He hates making his family upset.

 

”I’m proud of you,” she whispers. 

 

“Mum,” he says, his throat getting tight. His mum coughs a quiet, “Love you,” before she squeezes him gently, carefully so not to hurt him.

 

Dele just waves at him awkwardly. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something but nothing comes out of it. Eric looks at him expectantly.

 

”See you tomorrow,” he says instead and pats him on the shoulder and then he’s gone. It leaves a strange feeling in Eric’s stomach once again and Eric gets the impression that it isn’t what Dele wanted to say to him at all. The itching is back but when the nurse starts explaining the procedure to him his mind slips back to the coming hours.

 

He’s not nervous. He knows it will be fine but he also knows that it isn’t.

 

***

  
  


He survives the surgery, which isn’t that big of a surprise but his Mum’s so happy that one would have thought it had been actually a life threatening one. 

 

Maybe it was in a way but Eric is relieved it’s over as well. His ribs still hurt and his ankle is put in a cast while his knee is wrapped up in a knee brace being stabilised. It’s only one leg that’s affected so he’ll be able to to walk with crutches. 

 

It’s a great relief to hear those words because as much as Eric loves taking care of people, he hates having to be taken care of. He loves his independence. He  _ needs _ his independence, especially if he has to spend the next weeks moving as little as possible. 

 

While his Mum is packing his stuff and getting ready for him to finally return home, Eric is staring at his cast. It’s so bland and boring and he wonders if he should have asked for a colored one. It’s weird that none of his teammates even thought about writing anything on it. It’s awfully clean, but Eric likes it clean, so maybe he’s actually glad about it.

 

As soon as the thought is leaving his head, he notices  Dele standing in the door a bright smile on his face and a pink sharpie in his hand.

 

“No. “Eric says because he doesn’t want any penises drawn on his ankle, thank you very much.

 

Dele pouts, puppy eyes on display. Eric hates that look, because he knows what it does to him. He stares back with no intention of backing down. 

 

“No.“ he repeats again, this time more pointed and Dele opens his mouth in protest. 

 

“Come on. Just my name. I promise.” he says, but Eric can see the lie in his face. 

 

“Remember when you promised to not write on my bathroom wall?” he raises his eyebrows at Dele. He’s learned his lesson with trusting that boy with sharpies. But Dele is not giving up.

 

“You still kept it on the wall so it means you liked it.“ he challenges and dammit he’s good. It’s a nice drawing, Eric has to admit. Dele is not the most talented artist and the little deer and the bear aren’t realistic yet still recognizable. He’s gotten fond of the drawing and erasing it from this bathroom wall meant erasing it from his memory as well in a way. So  Maybe Dele was right and this would be just another memory he should live with. 

 

“When I’m home,” Eric finally agrees sighing. “But no penises,” he warns because he’s an adult and Dele is too. 

 

“I would never…” Dele huffs  and Eric laughs before a sharp pain is coursing through him. He holds his ribs.

 

“I’m very classy.” Dele pouts and it’s adorable in his own way that Eric can’t help but snort. 

 

“Don’t know who gave you that impression.” Eric winks at him and Dele laughs.

  
  


***

  
  
  


Eric finds the package sitting on his porch, carefully wrapped in brown paper. There’s no return address, just his own printed on a small white square. He almost breaks his other ankle when he nearly trips over the package and his Mum lets out a small scream that Eric is positive made one of his neighbors want to call the police. 

 

He wasn’t expecting a package, so it leaves Eric a bit suspicious.

 

“What’s that?” his Mum asks when she recovers from the shock and Eric shrugs. 

 

“I don’t know.” he says because he doesn’t and his mum picks the package up for him. 

 

“It’s not heavy,” she says as she is weighing it up in her hands. “So it’s probably not something dangerous.” she musters.  

 

Eric shoots her a look. “Mum!”

 

”What, you never know these days and I worry.“ she says seriously  before unlocking the door and leading him inside his house.

 

His parents offered him to move in with them for his rehabilitation but Eric kindly reclined. He wants to do this at home, he’s an adult and he’s going to be alright.

 

As soon as his nose hits the familiar smell of his house, heavy and grounding like wood and florals, Eric feels something being lifted off him. He’s not in the hospital anymore, he’s home. The exhaustion is crashing down on him and he’s tired again. He wants to sleep and he wants to cuddle his dogs. They aren’t here though, because his sisters already took them in to take care of them. He doesn’t like it but he knows it’s the best for the situation since he won’t be able to take care of them himself.  

 

***

  
  
  


Eric is avoiding social media. 

 

Instead of roaming through his phone, he’s sitting on his daybed, back comfortably leaned against a pillow while listening to the radio. It’s a new addition to his house, so that he doesn’t have to make long trips to the kitchen or the bathroom. He’s been playing videogames for the better part of the day but it’s not the same as playing with a friend and Eric gets bored.

 

His phone isn’t an option either to cure his boredom. In fact, Eric totally abandoned his phone much to the disdain of his family but he’s trying to concentrate on his health. There are too many ‘Get well soon’ messages and Eric has had enough. He has missed calls from Pochettino and he knows that he should answer them. He has not though. Instead he turned off his phone completely.

 

In his hands he’s holding the mysterious package he received a few days ago. He still hasn’t opened it and he’s curious as to what's inside. He hasn’t ordered anything and normally he should be wary about things on his porch without any return address but he’s curious. 

 

It’s a trait he’s got from his father. His mum wants him to be careful though, so that’s what he’ll be.

 

He’s bored, has been since he’s back from the hospital so maybe the package would bring him some excitement. He misses his dogs terribly, he wants something to cuddle, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s bored or because of his injury but he can’t help it. There’s no one to take into his arms though and he’s not allowed to either. He’s in a miserable position that much he can acknowledge.

 

The package is not heavy, but very light. The cardboard looking like it’s spent a bit of time in the rain and it being February in England that’s the most reasonable explanation. Eric just hopes that whatever is inside isn’t damaged. It’s rough beneath his fingertips and his hearts starts beating inside his chest. He feels his skin tingle in anticipation when he’s carefully opening the package with a letter opener. The tape is stubborn and it takes Eric a bit of effort to get it open. Inside there’s a small rectangular thing looking like a recorder of sorts and Eric takes it into his hands before turning it skeptically. 

 

He doesn’t know what he expected but it certainly not this. It’s such a simple thing and yet very complicated to grasp. He has never owned something like this but it leaves him disappointed.  

 

He rummages through the rest of the package. There’s no letter, no little card explaining anything. 

 

It’s weird, but it’s also something to distract him from boredom and someone wants him to hear what’s on the recorder.  He feels a bit like he’s  being  let in onto a secret and it’s a strange feeling. Anticipation mixed with something he can’t quite place. 

 

He doesn’t get much mail, just the occasional postcard from his family. His skin is itching but he’s not sure if it’s just the warmth of his heater or something entirely else.

 

Once he’s managed to put his  earplugs in, he stops thinking and starts listening.

 

***

 

The tape starts to grow on Eric and before he knows it he’s listening to it all day. It’s full of music, nothing he really knows but nothing self composed either. It’s telling him a story he yet doesn’t understand but he feels like he needs to. 

 

The songs aren’t songs he would normally listen to and it surprises him that he’s actually enjoying them.  He listens to them and he can’t get enough. It touches his heart in a way he never believed something like a mixtape could, but it does. There are songs in different languages and songs with soft melodies. Piano and guitars. Drums and Bass. There are words that dig right into his heart and words he doesn’t know the meaning of. He feels the vibrations of the instruments and the lyrics speaking to him. It’s love and friendship, war and peace all crammed into a small recorder. It’s like he’s living a story while listening to it.  A story he wants to be his own.

 

Eric googles the lyrics to some of the songs  and it’s the only time he allows himself to be on the internet.

He doesn’t know if he likes the songs just because he’s so bored out of his mind, but the more he listens to them the more he feels a connection. He can’t help but wonder who sent him the tape and the question of why doesn’t leave him alone either.

 

***

“What’s that?” Dele asks before jumping on Eric’s daybed and Eric almost gets a heart attack. And wouldn’t that be just a perfect addition to everything else. It’s been only a few days since he’s been released from the hospital. His Mum has been over almost everyday and Eric feels like he’s a child again.

 

Dele sits himself next to Eric on top of the white bedclothes, making himself comfortable. He stretches his legs and Eric is glad that he remembered to take off his shoes. He’s looking at Eric expectantly and Eric wonders what he wants before he notices that he still has got his earplugs in. 

 

He takes them out and before he can blink Dele snatches the tape-player out of his hands. Eric wants to protest when Dele starts listening to it without asking.  He’s too stunned to actually say something but it’s Dele so it doesn’t really matter anyway. 

 

Still the prospect of Dele listening to something that is his, even though it isn’t is making  him anxious. It’s like he just stole a secret from him.

 

There’s the other question in the room as to why Dele is actually here, sitting on his bed like he belongs there. Eric opens his mouth to just ask him that but Dele shushes him, so Eric just sits back against the back of his bed, closing his eyes.

 

It feels like an hour that they don’t talk, just sitting comfortably next to each other. Eric is listening to Dele breathing while watching him listen to the tape. His skin  complexion is glowing in the dimm light of his livingroom, it is tawny and not as dark as it is in the summer. Eric wonders if his black sweater is as soft as it looks. His fingers itch again and he wants to know what Dele is thinking. Somehow he feels like he just opened up a part of him to him, even though it’s not anything personal and yet it is. It’s no one’s music really and still only Eric’s and he loves it. He wants Dele to love it too.

 

“Huh,” Dele says grimacing before  taking out the earplugs. “Never expected you to listen to things like that.” Neither did Eric. 

 

“I also never expected you to listen to tapes.” Dele continues.

 

”It was a gift,”  Eric says because it was and it’s even a bit too defensive to his own ears, so he tries to change the topic.

 

“What are you even doing here?”  If there’d be a question Eric asked the most it would have been this one and he wonders why he even bothers to still ask.

 

“I’m moving in.” Dele says as if it’s the most normal thing and Eric chokes on his spit. 

 

“You what?”

 

“Well not really moving in. But  I’m staying temporarily to  help you out , since you can’t do everything on your own.”

 

Eric just blinks. He’s trying to figure out  _ why. _ And there it goes, his independence.

 

“Don’t give me that look. It was your Mum’s idea.” Of course it was. “She said it was time anyway.” Dele mumbles and Eric thinks he must have misheard the last words. 

 

“You need help. You can’t walk or anything.” 

  
“So you want to take care of me?” Eric asks still in disbelief. “How will you manage that? You’re away with the club half the time. You can’t even cook.”  Dele rolls his eyes and his brown eyes find Eric’s blue ones. He shrugs. “I can hand you things  and stuff.” He laughs and nudges Eric carefully to avoid hurting him. 

 

“Just be happy, mate. It’s gonna be fun.” Dele smiles at him and Eric can’t but smile back. He’s not sure about all of this but he likes having Dele around and maybe it’s a good thing to have someone helping him a bit. Maybe it means he can have his dogs back.

 

“Won’t Ruby miss you? “ He asks and he hopes Dele doesn’t plan to move her in with him. He loves her, they are somewhat like friends but Eric has enough on his hand handling his teammate.

 

“Huh?” Dele looks at him as if he’d momentarily forgot that his girlfriend exists but he catches himself quickly. “Nah,” he shrugs. 

 

“You sure?” 

 

“Trust me. She’ll cope.”

  
  
  


***

_ Flüsterton - Mark Forster _

 

It’s weird having Dele in the house but it’s also very nice having the company and Eric quickly gets used to it. He’s still alone most of the time, when Dele’s off to train or off with the club to the games. He’s not thinking about it though. The club and the games are far from his mind. He’s not sure why he doesn’t want to think about it, but something doesn’t allow him to.

 

When Dele’s not home Eric is still listening to the mixtape. He has yet to tire of it and he still doesn’t know where it is from. He thinks hard about its source, but no one ever comes to mind. 

 

When Dele returns,  they mostly sit on the couch and play video games or Eric observes him burning down his kitchen while he tries to cook something healthy and edible. food. Most of the times it ends up in ordering something from a restaurant that fits their dietary requirements. Eric doesn’t complain and it’s sweet in a way how Dele tries to be a good friend. 

 

“I’m glad that you're letting Dele help you. He’s good for you,” his Mum tells him on the phone and Eric nods, because he knows that. He has the best friend in the world and he wants to shout it from the rooftops. He doesn’t though.

 

There are days where he isn’t feeling that well. When he feels his chest getting heavy and the clouds gather themselves above him, when even his music isn’t helping him. He still hasn’t watched the video of his crash and he still hasn’t looked at his twitter.

 

He’s relieved to have his social media team and he knows that they’ll take care of his accounts.

 

He’s not sure why he’s feeling that way or why it bugs him so much, but he feels like his whole world got ripped beneath his feet and there’s nothing holding him off the ground.

 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks with an raised eyebrow when he spots Dele in his livingroom, carrying a pile of blankets. They are grey and cozy looking and Eric can’t remember possessing that much blankets. 

 

Maybe letting him move in wasn’t a good idea after all. Dele hasn’t been here long, only a couple of days and he’s already redecorating his living room.  

 

“Nothing.” Dele replies in a tone that means  _ something. _ There’s the spark of mischievousness Eric knows too well. 

 

“Nothing.” Eric repeats and narrows his eyes in suspicion.

 

_ Nothing.  _

 

He didn’t know that _ Nothing  _ involved covering his living room with a hundred blankets.  He  slowly walks towards his couch to look at the spectacle more closely. It’s not easy. His ribs hurt with every movement and he’s still walking on crutches, not allowed to put any pressure on his knee and foot. His doctor told him to stay in bed but Eric’s restless and he can’t let Dele wreck his home. He’s getting used to the pain though and he’s still on painkillers, so he doesn’t complain. 

 

“What do you want to do with all the blankets and ...pillows?” Yes, there are definitely colorful pillows lying on his floor, bright like a rainbow. They are stacked in front of his couch, leaning against it and on his carpet. 

The dark couch table is moved to the side making room for the cushions and blankets almost covering the entire floor in front of his TV.  It’s a view Eric never encountered in his life but it looks inviting and cozy and he’s really curious about it now. 

There’s a hook at his ceiling and a little ladder at the side and Eric wonders what on earth is happening to his house and if he should put a stop to it.

 

“Oh yeah about that. We are having a sleepover.”

 

“A sleepover.” Eric repeats, confused. “You and me are having a sleepover?”

 

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.” Dele says, rolling his eyes at him. “It’s going to be great.”

 

“You’re here every night, remember?  Why do you need all the blankets and pillows. Is the guest room not good enough for you anymore? Did I miss something?” Because it’s true. Maybe Eric should convince Dele to start paying rent.

 

“We’re building a pillow fort,” Dele says it like it’s the most logical thing in the world and maybe that’s just what it is.

 

“We’re doing what now?”

 

“Well I’m building it and you can watch. Don’t want any other bones in your body to break.” He laughs at his own joke and this time it’s  Eric who rolls his eyes.

 

“Funny. What are we... twelve?”

 

“If you don’t want to I can just -“ Dele trails off, gesturing to the door looking strangely vulnerable. 

 

“No,” Eric says way too quickly, interrupting his friend. “I mean. It’s okay. Let us be twelve for the night.” 

 

Eric has to admit the pillows and blankets look very inviting and he wonders what it would feel like to pretend just for the night to be young again. He snorts.  _ Young _ , as if he’s so old now. 

 

Dele smiles at him bright and happy and it’s worth it Eric thinks. Seeing Dele smile like that is worth almost everything and it warms him from the inside.

 

He observes Dele building the rest of the fort. When he’s pulling out a long piece of cloth and hanging it up the hook on his ceiling, Eric wants to interfere but maybe he should just let Dele do his thing. His living room looks like a big fucking tent and Eric wonders if it’s really possible to just flee from the world for a bit. He walks closer to take a better look at the fort and to find out if Dele’s still alive. He’s been inside the tent for more than ten minutes now. 

 

“Dele, are you okay?” Eric asks concerned when he hears some swearing from behind the white cloth.

 

“Everything’s fine.” Dele calls back and Eric sits himself down on his armchair outside the tent. He decides to believe him for once. He’s exhausted from walking on his crutches, handling them leaving him sweaty and tired. Maybe this thing Dele’s planning will be actually good for him. It’s slowly getting dark outside making his room dimly lit and the white cloth is glowing in the dark room. The rain outside is tapping against the windows, the noise even and calming.

 

It feels like half an eternity until Dele reappears behind the curtains, dressed in grey sweatpants and  a t-shirt, beckoning him to come inside. Eric is wearing sweatpants too. He’s been wearing them for too long. Jeans are a pain to get over his foot and knee, so he’s taking the easier road. They are comfortable as well and Eric is all for comfort. Fashion never interested him -- unlike Dele. He probably bought them from Gucci or something. Eric doesn’t really care but he wouldn’t be surprised.

 

“You can come in now.” Dele tells him and Eric looks at him skeptically. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” he  mutters under his breath but he’s trying to get up anyway. Dele is at his side to help him, crutches left on his floor. He’d like to tell Dele off, tell him he’s able to do it himself, but he isn’t so he takes the help gratefully. Dele’s touch is warm against the curve of his biceps, applying only a faint amount of pressure.

 

“I ordered Pizza by the way.” Dele says when they are comfortably seated on the floor, propped against the big pillows, legs stretched out. Eric’s leg is cushioned by the softness of the fort and his rib is throbbing only slightly. At the words Eric’s stomach starts to rumble and Dele laughs knowingly.

 

“When?” Eric asks and then, “how long have you been here exactly?” Because Eric hadn't heard him come in. He lives here now but it’s still good to know when other people are in his house. Maybe he should change his locks and make Dele ring the bell.  

“You could have said ‘Hello’.” Eric pouts and Dele pats his right leg, the one that isn’t hurt. 

 

“Hi, Eric,” Dele says with a smile that makes Eric’s skin burn and he shoves him to so that he’s tumbling against the wall of the tent and it’s a miracle that the fort doesn’t break. 

 

“Careful.” Eric says even though he’s the one who pushed him and Dele flicks his ear. “I ordered the pizza a few hours ago.” Dele shrugs, not really concerned about his behaviour. “You were asleep so I didn’t want to wake you. It’s in the fridge.” He wasn’t asleep but he lets it slide because listening to the same tracks of music over and over again isn’t really healthy behaviour either.

“You know that you are supposed to eat it hot right?” He asks and Dele sticks his tongue out at him. 

 

“What, it’s not like ice cream?” He giggles and Eric shakes his head at him fondly. 

 

“Get the pizza, Delboy.” 

 

“Yes, sir.” Dele sighs but gets up anyway leaving Eric alone in the tent. He takes the opportunity to just look around a bit and think about what they are actually doing. He’s still not really sure and he wonders if Dele’s got something specific in mind. He’s never thought much about sleepovers or something similar. He never really bothered with it. Being alone from a young age in a foreign country never really  made it an option. He concentrated on football and there wasn’t much else. He wonders if it was the same for Dele. 

 

They’ve never been remotely those friends that sat together and talked it was never about words with them. It’s always touch and comfort, fun and laughter but maybe today was about silence and maybe more than that. 

 

The pillows are comfortable and the dim light is painting everything in a homey atmosphere. It’s cosy and strange and yet Eric isn’t feeling out of place at all. It’s something, Eric has to admit. 

 

When Dele comes back they eat their pizza in silence. It’s tasty and Eric always had a weakness for pepperoni. The rich smell of the cheese fills his nose and he thinks he shouldn’t be eating that garbage, but Dele’s eating it too and it’s a cheat day of sorts. It’s Sunday and calories don’t count on weekends according to his grandma anyway.

They watch TV for a while without really watching it, just lying beside each other, backs pressed against the pillows. Eric has the feeling that this isn’t all the reason why they are hiding inside his living room. Eric is used to impulsive behaviour from his best friend but this is sweet and Dele isn’t sweet when he’s feeling okay. 

 

“Are you scared?” Dele asks breaking the comfortable silence, looking at him through the fringe of his eyelashes. 

 

“Huh?” Eric asks. He wants to ask why Dele is asking that but maybe he has to let him deal with it in his own terms, whatever is bothering him. Eric isn’t scared not right now, right now he feels safe. “About what will happen?” Dele clarifies, gesturing towards Eric’s ankle with a slice of pizza in his hand. “When you come back? Scared of not playing?” And yes, those have all been questions Eric had been asking himself briefly, but he’s pushed them away because he doesn’t want to think about it if he’s being honest with himself. Eric thinks for a moment but he stays silent. 

 

“I’m scared.” Dele says suddenly and Eric looks back at him. They’re incredibly close laying on the old soft pillows. The blanket above their heads is illuminated by the flickering lights of Eric’s TV.  Eric imagines that there’d be stars if they’re lying outside. It’s quite ridiculous and romantic, but they aren’t romantic so Eric brushes the thought off like a layer of dust on his shelf.

 

Maybe what they have isn’t normal, but to Eric it is and if their normality includes building pillow forts and staring at the  stars together he takes it. It wasn’t for anyone to decide what was normal anyway. 

 

“How so?” Eric asks, not breaking their eye contact. The statement surprises him but it makes him curious. Dele sighs and turns back staring at the ceiling and Eric’s eyes follow the movement. The little fairy lights are splattered randomly with cold blue light and Eric wishes they were more organized so they could start looking for signs. 

 

“I don’t know.” Dele says and he sounds guarded again. It’s not something Eric likes about Dele, how he always starts opening up and then back tracks again. It’s insecurity so much Eric can understand. He knows him, knows how honest his eyes and heart are but he also knows that it’s not something Dele likes to show and when he shows it, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

 

“Del. It’s okay,” Eric says and his thumb presses against Dele’s wrist  where their hands are lying in between them on the cushions. He feels Dele’s pulse thrum under his hand but it’s calming down at Eric’s touch and he smiles. He doesn’t take his finger away and he’s not surprised when Dele grabs his hand before intertwining their fingers. It’s a thing they do and it’s not something he does with his other friends, but it’s okay. It’s okay because it’s them. 

 

“It’s just… I feel like the whole world is screaming at me, you know?” Dele says and Eric understands. 

 

“They all have these expectations and what if i can’t match them? What if everything is over the next season.” He looks at Eric again, brown eyes vulnerable and open and it makes Eric’s heart ache.

 

“What’s brought this on?” Eric asks because he knows Dele, knows that Dele knows how talented he is. He knows his confidence about his game and his visions about winning trophies, does know that there are no limits and yet he had apparently dug deep enough in his soul to find some insecurities.

 

Dele shrugs and closes his eyes briefly before kicking his legs against one of the pillows. He’s nervous, Eric can tell and Eric feels the energy drumming though his fingers like an electric current and it’s making him restless as well.

 

“Ever since you got hurt I started thinking and…” Dele and overthinking were never a good combination. “Everything can be over so quickly and  _ What if everything isn’t  like it was before? _ ” 

 

“You are young and not injured,” Eric says bitterly because it’s the truth. 

 

“You are hurt.” Dele says quietly and it’s not a lie either.  

 

“So what you are trying to say is that I won’t be able to come back? Be my old self?”

 

Eric feels his own pulse rising and Dele gives a frustrated sound before balling his free hand into a fist as if he wants to grab something that isn’t there. The other one still tucked safely between their bodies.  

 

“What, no! That wasn’t what I was saying.” He struggles to get out the words. “I’m just scared about the future, I guess.  _ Our _ future together as a team at the club. What if  _ I’m _ not able to be the one I have always been. What if...” 

 

“Shh. Breathe.”  Eric interrupts him, squeezing his hand again.  

 

”I’m scared too.” He admits after a few beats of silence and Dele looks back at him. 

 

“Don’t be so surprised.” 

 

“You are always so composed.” 

 

“Says the one who’s always on top of his confidence game. You’ve never been scared about the future before.” Eric scratches his beard. He most definitely has to shave, but he’s not sure if he wants to. He quite likes how it looks in combination with his short blond hair.

 

“I guess it’s just easier to pretend sometimes.” 

 

Dele nods. “Just glow when the rest of the world is glowing too. Be there when everyone wants you too.” 

 

“Yell with the crowd so you don’t get lost.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Dele says. “That’s not how I wanted this evening to go. I wanted this to be a fun experience and now it is all going …” He gestures his hand in a downhill motion. 

 

“Did you want us to paint our toenails and braid our hair?” Eric asks and Dele breaks out in a giggle as if he’s actually thinking about doing something like this next time.

 

_ Next time _ . 

 

Eric tries not to snort out loud because he’s actually enjoying the idea of it.

 

“I mean it though. I didn’t want to bring you down with me with all I have to say.” 

 

Eric shakes his head . “It’s nice. “ he says. ”You sharing stuff with me.” 

 

And it is. Dele isn’t easy for anyone to read and every time he gets to see the carefully crafted facade break, Eric takes the pieces and puts them in a  memory box secured somewhere in his mind. He wants Dele to know that it’s okay, okay to talk.

 

“Besides hearing you whine about yourself makes me feel better and superior anyway.” Eric jokes. “So it’s fun for me.” He winks at Dele and his teammate starts laughing.

 

“You really can’t wink, Dier.”

 

“Stop laughing,” Eric complains. “If you laugh then I laugh. And I have a broken rib.” He reminds Dele but he isn’t serious even though it bloody hurts. But what is a bit of pain when he gets laughter in return?

 

“Do you think it’s going to change a lot? For you I mean. It’s not an easy injury. You are seriously hurt.” Dele gets back to the topic from moments ago sobering up pretty quickly. 

 

“I’ll survive.” Eric says because there’s no choice for him anyway. It’s not a matter of life and death and he’s going to return to the pitch eventually. Something tightens in his stomach when he thinks about it. It’s not comforting and feels like a knife to the gut but he’s ignoring it. 

 

“Hmm.” Dele hums. “Will you come to the next  games then?” He asks tentatively and Eric hates him for it. He groans, rubbing his hands over his face, eyes getting tired. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asks instead and Dele raises his eyebrows pointedly. 

 

“I will come.” Eric promises. “When I can breathe and walk normally again-” 

 

“So not the rest of this season then.” Dele says and Eric doesn’t know why he sounds so disappointed. 

 

“It’s not like you lot need me anyway,” Eric says off handedly. “You’ve got enough fans cheering for you and yelling at you.” He nudges Dele in the side but there’s barely a reaction.

 

“I’d rather have you screaming.” 

 

“I just need time.” Eric says honestly and Dele nods.

 

“I’m not ready for it.” 

 

“For what?” 

 

“The dancing. The glowing. The screaming.”

 

“Maybe we really just have to learn to block it out.” Dele says absentmindedly, his fingers playing with a loose thread of one of the blankets. They’re not holding hands anymore.

 

“To block what out?”

 

“The yelling, the voices, the media.”

Eric can’t help but think about the mixtape that is currently residing on his bedside table. The one that cancels out every other noise when he’s listening to it. The one that is quietly telling him things .

  
  
  


“The most important things are whispered anyway.” Dele says quietly into Eric's ear and he feels a shiver running down his spine, his skin getting goosebumps.

 

“Is that so,” he chokes out, throat suddenly dry and Dele looks at him with warm brown eyes. They are honest and gentle. Eric nods. 

 

They’re adults lying on the floor hidden beneath a sea of blankets but they are  also kids hiding from the world in a castle made from sheets and pillows. 

 

Eric feels safe. 

 

Maybe he’s supposed to hurt, maybe his ankle was meant to be broken and maybe his ribs there to be fragile. He feels his own heart thumping gently in his chest, slowly while his breath evens out. He’s getting tired, the heat of the body next to him and the smooth and steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

 

Eric’s glad he’s got someone in Dele to  _ just be _ . The conversation making him feel lighter as when his emotions are weighing him down. Maybe Dele is glad to have him too. 

  
  
  


“Have you found out who sent you the mixtape yet?” Dele asks blinking at him with sleep in his eyes. Eric shakes his head. “I haven’t really started looking yet,”  he frowns and Dele yawns. “Maybe you should.”  

 

Yeah. Maybe he should.

  
  


***

_ Nights with you - Mø _

  
  


Eric tries to find out who send him the mixtape, but he isn’t successful. He’s still avoiding the internet and his mind is blank whenever he thinks about who could have sent him the tape. He doesn’t know a lot of people and he can exclude everyone from his family. He doubts that any of his teammates would have sent him something like this. He wouldn’t know a reason as to  _ why  _ they would do it. There’s no one left, so he really has to keep on thinking.

 

He’s slowly starting up his rehabilitation with his physiotherapist.

 

Her name’s María and she’s been working for Spurs a few years now. 

 

She’s nice enough and they’ve worked together over the years but Eric has never been seriously hurt before this. He’s bruised his rib a few years ago but there wasn’t much to be done anyway and he hasn’t been in England then. The problem is in his knee and his ankle. Right now he can’t do much but he still has to keep fit. 

 

He’s sitting on a training bike only moving his right leg, the other one still bandaged and stabilised with a cast.

 

He’s at home since there isn’t much he can do besides keeping his healthy leg fit. He still needs someone oversee his physical recovery. Next to him there’s María talking to someone on the phone in Portuguese and Eric feels a wave of familiarity hitting him like hot air in summer. She twirls her long blond hair around her finger while rapidly chatting and Eric tries his best not to eavesdrop on the conversation. It’s another reason why he gets on with her well. 

 

Both of them spent a majority of their lives in Southern Europe, and it’s a bit like having a piece of family here. He likes to think it’s nice for her as well. Being in a new country isn’t easy. Eric could write lists about it.

 

He gets ripped from his thoughts when he hears his front door shut with a loud bang and he nearly falls off the bike. María is there steadying him with strong arms and Eric mutters a small thanks before Dele bursts through the door to his training room looking excited. 

 

He’s dressed in dark jeans and a printed T-shirt, with the adidas logo sprawled across his chest. Eric rarely sees Dele dress in anything other than black or white, so having him wear a dark bordeaux colored shirt is a rare sight. 

 

“Hi,” he says smile dropping a bit when he spots Eric and María at the bike. She is still having a hand on his biceps, but drops it immediately when she sees Dele approaching. 

“What do  you want?” Eric says in greeting. He’s a bit annoyed but he hopes he’s not coming off as rude.

 

“Charming as always,” Dele retorts and twists his ring around his finger. “I’m kidnapping you.” he states.

 

That’s not how kidnapping works, Eric wants to say but he doesn’t get a chance. 

 

“You’re coming with me.” Dele continues and no, he’s definitely not.

 

“I’m in the middle of something.”

 

“Training is over.” Dele declares and before Eric can protest María pipes up. Eric has almost forgotten that she’s still there. 

 

“No, he’s right. It’s over. You have done enough for the day.” She smiles at Eric and he can hear Dele cheering triumphantly.

 

It’s nine a.m on a Monday morning and Eric feels violated.

 

“I’m taking a shower.” Eric says pointedly but the smile can’t be swept off his friend's face. Well, he’s going to try. Showering has been a pain in the ass for him but he manages.

 

“You do that.” Dele says. “We’re waiting outside.”

 

_ We. _

 

Before he can ask, Dele is back out again leaving a confused Eric behind.

  
  


***

  
  


“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Eric says because he knows it’s not. It’s a horrible idea and he’s sure something will go wrong.

 

“It’s a great idea,” Dele insists and Eric just wants to go back to bed. After his halfway successful attempt at showering he’s greeted with a  black Range Rover in his drive, Harry Kane and Ben Davies leaning against it.  Harry’s looking great as usual, blond hair gelled back where as Ben looks like he wants to be somewhere else. Eric can’t blame him.

 

Eric looks at his teammates to back him up in the claim that they really shouldn’t do this but they just shrug and Harry actually looks amused. 

 

“It  _ is _ a great idea actually.” Ben pipes up even though his face shows signs of the opposite. But maybe that’s just Ben’s face. 

 

It’s actually a pleasant temperature for once, the first signs of spring reaching England after all. The air smells like flowers and there’s a light breeze of wind tickling his nose. There’s no need for a jacket today but he feels very underdressed in his training shorts. The rest of the bunch are dressed in jeans and T-shirts making it more acceptable to be seen in public. Eric doesn’t really care how he’s dressed but he still doesn’t want to look homeless. 

 

“The doctor said-” Eric starts but Dele interrupts him after only a few words.

 

“Yes, we all know what the doctor said. Peace and Quiet. But where do you get more peace and quiet if not at the sea?“

 

He has a point,  Eric has to admit. He loves the sea and he misses it terribly. He’s gotten used to the weather in London and accepted the difference in culture and climate. There’s still one thing though that’s hard to replace; and that’s the beach and its unique atmosphere, the warm wind and the cold water.

 

“It’s just one day. No one’s gonna miss you .”

 

”That’s always nice to hear.“ Eric says sarcastically even though he knows what Dele means. 

 

“We’ve sacrificed our free day already for this trip so you better get your ass in the car.” Harry says mock threateningly and Eric was on his way anyway.   

 

“Are you driving?” he asks pointing at Dele. “Because if yes, then I’m not coming.” 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a good driver.” Dele’s affronted but Harry puts an arm calmingly around his shoulders.

 

”Relax, Ben is driving.“ he says and Eric feels lighter. He trusts Dele with everything but he isn’t that good of a driver that he claims he is.

 

”I have to drive because I’m the oldest out of all of us.” Ben says before letting himself inside the car and putting his sunglasses on.“

 

“You don’t even have a year on me.” Harry protests but gets on the passenger seat nonetheless.

 

“So you are coming? “ Dele asks once again and Eric nods. There a lot of  reasons he shouldn’t give this adventure a chance but maybe this will be good for him after all. He’s about to let Dele help him into the car when he remembers something.

 

“I’ll be right back.“ he announces before he’s limping back inside his house on his crutches. 

 

When he comes back Dele is still waiting outside the car looking at him strangely. 

 

“You’re becoming quite obsessed, mate.” He says when he sees the tape inside his hand and Eric shrugs. Maybe he is, but it’s not like he cares.

 

Once they are all seated inside the car, Ben starts the motor. There are a few extra cushions on his side of the car and Eric is grateful. The seatbelt hurts him so the pain might be dampened. The car still has that new car smell and Eric has never been on a road trip with his friends so it’s a first and maybe he can live with that.

 

“Where are we going?” Eric asks when they are hitting the highway, passing trees and fields along the way.

 

“Brighton.” Harry declares from in front of him and Eric likes that. Brighton is nice and he can’t wait to be immersed in the breeze of salty air.

 

“Yeah. Brighton has good looking people with good skin.” Dele says absentmindedly while looking out of the car window.

 

“Okay?” Eric says because he isn’t sure what to do with this information.

 

“We’re going to find Ben a boyfriend.” Dele declares and Eric is sure if they weren’t on a busy street on a monday morning and if Eric weren’t in a delicate and fragile state, Ben would have braked sharply.

 

“No we are not?” Ben says instead but Dele doesn’t budge.

 

“You need to get laid. And what’s better than 3 friends helping you find the love of your life?”

 

Eric has to snort at that and he’s sure that Harry is trying to hold in his laughter as well.

 

“I don’t need a boyfriend.” Ben says stubbornly and Dele kicks at his seat. 

 

“Yes, you do! You have to live a little!”

 

“I live plenty enough.”

 

“Yeah but with a stick up your ass and not-”

 

“Language.” Harry scolds which earns him a look from Dele. 

 

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget that the kids aren’t here.”

 

“They can’t understand anything though.” Eric throws in because they’re tiny.

 

“Ivy is a very clever girl.. I’m sure she-”

 

“Why don’t you find Eric someone?” Ben interrupts Harry.

 

“No, no no. You leave me out of this. I’m actually on Dele’s side. You’re in need of a little lovin’.” Eric says because he doesn’t need anyone. His fingers start itching but he blames it on the air conditioning in the car.

 

“Of course you’d be on his side.” Ben mutters before taking a sharp turn to the left and Eric has to hold himself up at the car window handle.

 

“Are you jealous?” Dele asks but Ben doesn’t say anything. Eric can see him roll his eyes though in the front rear mirror.

 

“We’re all friends here.” Harry says. “The English mates.”

 

There’s a very loud cough coming from Ben. “The English mates and one Welshman.” Harry corrects himself.

 

“Are you sure you’re not English ?” Eric asks and Ben flicks him the V.

 

“I’m already regretting coming here with you.” he says even though Eric can hear that he doesn’t really mean it.

 

“You all can be glad that I’m driving you. With Dele you’d probably end up in Manchester, so you better be nice to me!”

 

“I’m not a bad driver!” Dele groans and rests his head against Eric’s shoulder. He laughs and pets his head in empathy.

 

Sometimes Eric really loves his friends.

 

***

  
  


“What about him?” Dele asks and points at a red haired guy walking along the Brighton Pier. He’s wearing a dark suit and a briefcase, looking in a hurry.  Eric can’t imagine Ben being with someone looking so buttoned up but he actually doesn’t know what Ben’s type is, so maybe that’s what he wants.

 

“I told you, I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” Ben says annoyed.

 

“Only someone for sex, then?”

 

“No, I’m not looking for anything.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Dele says ignoring Ben’s words of protest. “He’s no Mousa Dembélé. Probably not that flexible.”

 

“Oh my God. I thought we were here to cheer up Eric and have a good time?” Ben asks.

 

“How is falling in love not fun?”

 

“I don’t recall it being fun for you.” Ben says raising his eyebrows.

 

“That’s different and you know that.” Dele says crossing his arms in front of his chest. Eric doesn’t really get what they are talking about but it amuses him nonetheless. It’s great to see someone else dealing with the menace that is Dele and failing spectacularly. It’s good to know that he isn’t the only one having to suffer.

 

It’s  amusing seeing them bickering while both of them are walking in front while he  limping on his crutches behind with Harry who is checking something on his phone. It’s the end of march and there’s a slight wind blowing. It feels colder than in London, but Eric understands because they are at the sea. He can taste the salt on his tongue the clear air making his lungs scream for more. It feels like he can finally breathe again. 

 

There’s no comparison to what it’s like in Portugal but it’s nice. It’s the air, Eric thinks. While it’s warm and and light like a loving hug at the other side across the Atlantic it’s heavy and playful in England. 

 

It’s not the same but Eric doesn’t want it to be.

 

It’s not loud, only few people walking along the pier. It’s silent enough so he can the waves crashing against stone like thunder and the sea gulls complaining above their heads.

 

Eric isn’t good on his feet and he’s slow. Walking with crutches makes him slower than his grandmother and it’s bugging him. He’s glad though that no one’s has recognized them. They aren’t exactly subtle today, being in a group of four. 

 

Soon Dele and Ben are way ahead of them walking randomly down the pier and probably still on the look for a new Mr. Davies.

It hasn’t been a long time since Ben came out to them, telling them like it’s no big deal and yet the biggest truth he’s ever told.

 

Eric’s glad that Dele and Harry reacted the way they did, hugging Ben and not making fun of him. It lifted something of Eric chest, he didn’t even know was crushing him. 

 

He himself never made anything out of his sexuality. He knows who he’s attracted to, knows it’s boys and girls equally alike but he doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it. He doesn’t talk about it but he isn’t quiet either, so his friends know, when they pay attention.

 

“You know someday, someone will catch you staring,” Harry says amused and Eric gets pulled out of his thoughts.

 

“Staring?” 

 

Harry shakes his head. “Nevermind.” 

 

“It was a great Idea coming here wasn’t it?” Harry asks leaning on the railing and looking over the ocean.The sky is slowly starting to turn pink and Harry  looks like he’s deep in thought and Eric frowns. 

 

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully quiet.” It’s true. Harry has been there physically. He was there on the car ride and he’s here now talking to Eric. But he’s not really  _ there _ .

 

“Did something happen?” He asks, because Harry is looking  at his phone again.

 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Eric nods.

 

“Kate is pregnant again.” That is something Eric hasn't expected but he’s happy for his friend. Really happy.

 

“Wow. Congratulations, H.” He says and knocks him in the shoulder. Another Kane. The future of England secured.

 

Harry gives him one of his crooked smiles. “She told me this morning and I’m just so excited. So I keep checking up on her.”

 

“Why are you here with us then?” Eric asks because he really should be celebrating with his wife.

 

“Dele insisted.” He says and it’s enough of an explanation for Eric. He knows no one who can resist those puppy eyes. “He wanted this day to be a great day. And apparently that includes me.” 

 

“It always includes you.” Eric says because Harry is a great friend.

 

“He cares about you, you know?” Harry says and Eric frowns. “Yeah I know.” because Dele is his best friend and it would be weird if he didn’t. Harry looks at him for a moment, as if  Eric doesn’t really  know at all.

 

“You make a great pair.”

 

Eric’s skin starts itching again.

 

***

  
  


They find a potential partner for Ben shortly before they are set to leave  again . The sun slowly setting on the horizon. It’s yellow and pink and Eric falls in love with the view. They are only a couple of people at the beach with them, mostly young adults gazing at the sea, feets buried in the wet sand and Eric wants that too. Him, Dele and Harry are sitting on a blanket. It’s cold beneath their bums but it’s bearable. 

 

Eric can feel the wind blowing through his hair. He buries his his hands inside the sweater he’s wearing. It’s not his own but Dele’s. He didn’t think about bringing one of his own, because he wasn’t even aware of the road trip. It’s a bit too small for him, snug on his torso but it’s cozy and keeping him warm against the wind that is blowing. It’s almost April and the weather is doing what it wants.

 

Eric can smell the soft scent of washing powder and the faint trace of what is Dele, light and sweet like a flower with a hint of something spicy. It reminds Eric of a forest in summer, butterflies and something he can’t really place. It’s intriguing and he doesn’t mind that Dele obviously wore the sweater before.

  
Dele is gently tapping at his leg to get his attention and Eric looks to where Dele is pointing at. 

 

“Look.” he says and Eric is looking. There’s Ben chatting with a guy, who's not wearing a shirt and Eric freezes while looking at him. He’s wearing brightly colored swim trunks and Eric doesn’t think he can trust the guy when he’s going swimming at a temperature that’s freezing. England, he thinks. Eric doesn’t get cold very easily but even for him it’s a tad too cool. 

 

“Stop that.” Dele says and Eric blinks. “You’re making that face again.” 

 

“What face?” He says even though he does know which face he’s making exactly. 

 

“You’re judging the English.” 

 

“Am not.” Because he isn’t. Well... maybe just a tiny bit. But that guy isn’t wearing a shirt and it’s freaking cold.

 

“Ben seems to like the guy.” 

 

“Huh. Didn’t they just meet 12 seconds ago?” 

 

“Sometimes you just know.” Dele says defensively and looks at Eric with intense eyes. It’s a bit unsettling and Eric feels his skin grow hot. He looks away.

 

“Why are you so obsessed with finding Ben a boyfriend anyway?” He asks because he’s curious. Dele shrugs while drawing something in the sand with his finger.

 

“He deserves to be happy.” Dele says and Eric gets that.

 

“But he can be happy without a boyfriend as well you know.” He says gently because not everything in life is about love he thinks.

 

“I know, but I think he needs it.” 

 

“How so?” 

 

“I don’t want him to be scared. Scared of allowing himself to be who he is. I don’t care if he finds a boyfriend. But I care that he knows that it’s okay.”

 

“You never cease to amaze me.” Eric says because it’s true. “Sometimes I forget how wise you are.“ 

 

“I’m an adult you see.” 

 

“Hmm, it’s debatable.” Eric laughs and Dele knocks him in the shoulder. 

 

“Sometimes people just need a little push,” he says and it sounds like he isn’t talking about Ben anymore.

  
  


  
“Anyway guys,” Harry declares from beside Eric who jumps a little in shock, because he forgot about Harry even being with them here at the beach. He feels the hot prickle of guilt rushing through him. He knows it’s not the first time today it happened and he feels like a bad friend. Harry just claps him on the back and stands up before dusting off the sand from his  jeans. 

 

“It’s time for us to head back.” he says and Eric doesn’t want to go. 

 

“Benjamin.” Harry calls and Ben jogs over to them. He has a light flush on his neck and cheeks and Eric hopes that Ben knows what he’s getting into. It’s still football he plays and he doesn’t want his friend to get hurt. Neither his heart nor his soul. He knows the world can be cruel. He thinks about Dele’s words for a bit and maybe there really is no point in hiding forever maybe taking a step forward is what you have to do.

 

***

  
  
  


On their way back Dele falls asleep halfway through and Eric can’t blame him. It’s been an exhausting day but also one of the best of Eric’s life and he’s happy. Dele’s head is looled to the side, eyes tightly closed, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. He looks peaceful that way Eric thinks while he stares at him. When his head bumps Eric’s shoulder and stays that way. He doesn’t mind and he also doesn’t mind the look he gets from Harry when he turns around to check up on them.  Eric tries to relax, the weight of another body heavy against him. He feels Dele’s even breath  vibrating through his own body and it’s working like counting sheep. He pulls his earplugs and the tape out and presses play. 

 

Before he can even blink his eyes fall close and his vision turns dark with dreams dancing behind it.

 

***

_ Millionen Farben - Gestört aber geil _

  
  


He doesn’t need his crutches anymore. It’s been almost three months and María tells him the news while working on his leg. Eric feels the relief wash over him and it makes his day instantly better.

 

“You’re making a good recovery.” she says and Eric grins. He’s been working hard and it feels good to get somewhere. He’s far from done but on the right track and it’s all that counts he supposes. His rib doesn’t hurt anymore and he’s able to laugh now without pain, which is definite a plus on all sites.

  
  


“You’re definitely one of my favorite patients.” she winks at him when Eric hands her a bottle of water after their session has ended. Eric wonders if she’s flirting with him. He doesn’t know for sure and maybe she’s just overly friendly but something in her eyes tells him differently. It’s weird he thinks. It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention he’s getting but he hasn’t thought about flirting with anyone in a long while. 

 

It’s not the first time he wonders if it’s her who sent him the mixtape a few months ago. It makes sense he guesses. They’ve seen each other enough times and maybe she’s too shy to ask him directly. He doesn’t know why she hadn’t left  a message though. Maybe he should talk about it the next time they see each other. She’s attractive too, not that Eric overly cares. He’s always been a guy that looked at souls first then at the body. But music’s the instrument of a soul, so Eric takes his chances.

 

***

 

_ “ _ Are you coming tonight?” Dele asks on the other side of the phone and it hits him like a brick right in the chest. He picks at the flowers standing on his dinner table, while his leg rests on the chair opposite him. His mother had bought him some margarites in different colours to cheer him up and to make his home look more comfortable. It’s not the flowers Eric needs but something else entirely.

“Eric?” Dele asks again, but Eric doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know. Doesn’t know if he’s able to. He’s getting better, he’s on his way to recovery but he still hasn’t been to one of their games. He feels like a bad teammate but his chest starts to tighten when he even thinks about going there. He doesn’t know if it’s the aftermath of his accident or just uncertainty but it feels like water drowning him and there’s no room for him to breathe. His skin is crawling and he’s sweating. He’s never been much for panic before but he’s feeling it now and he doesn’t like it.

 

“I’m not coming.”

 

“Are you sure?” Dele presses and Eric wants to hang up the phone. 

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He isn’t sure but he’s made up his mind. The leafless flower looks at Eric sadly, it’s yellow leaves crumbled in a huddle beneath Eric’s fingers.

 

“You should come anyway.” Dele says and Eric shakes his head. Why won’t he just let it drop?

 

“Dele-”

 

“Please. The team misses you. _ I  _ miss you. You haven’t been here in months.”

 

“You’ve seen me almost everyday.”

 

“That’s different.”

 

Eric wonders how this is different exactly but he refrains himself from asking.

 

“Shit, Poch is giving me a look, I have to hang up now. But please think about it.”

 

Eric nods defeated, even though he knows Dele can’t see him but the call is disconnected before he can say anything.

 

He does think about it, of course he does. 

 

Going to the stadium, going to support his teammates. It’s been on his mind for more than he’s willing to admit but he’s dreading it. He doesn’t want to go, he really doesn’t. He’s not sure if he’s ready for it, ready to face the disappointment of not being able to help. He thinks about going back to bed and just sleep. His mum says it isn’t healthy and he agrees, but so is a broken foot and a hurt knee, so he thinks he’s safe. 

  
  


***

 

_ -Meet me at 10 at WHL (reloaded). _

 

That’s all the text says and  _ What the fuck _ is what Eric thinks. He knows the game will be over by then and it’s an out that Dele gives him. If he doesn’t want to he doesn’t have to watch and be painfully reminded that he can’t play. But he still doesn’t know what Dele wants from him. 

 

Eric doesn’t know if he wants to go to their stadium, doesn’t know if he wants his feet to touch the grass of his second home and to see the stands, where people cheer for them and cry with the team. Not if he knows that he won’t be able to be on the pitch for at least another few months. It hurts him just thinking about it and it will break his heart standing there and taking it all in. He’s not sure if they are even allowed to be there after the game has ended. Maybe Dele just wants to talk, but he could do this easily on the phone.

 

_ Why,  _ he texts back but he doesn’t get an answer. He supposes his friend is busy with preparation for the game against Chelsea. It won’t be their last home game but it’s still a big deal and Eric can’t get rid of the feeling that he definitely should go there and watch the stupid game. 

 

He’s got a war going inside of him and it’s not good on his nerves. His fingers are nervously tapping against the wood of his table like drums providing the beat for a song. He feels the energy thrumming through him like a hurricane on the making and it’s like electricity burning him. He’s sitting on hot coals and ashes as if he doesn’t have a choice and maybe he doesn’t.

 

When there's still no answer at half past seven, Eric sighs before grabbing his keys with one hand and his phone with the other. His cast on his food is gone and there’s only the knee that’s still causing him problems. He can walk though and that’s enough for now.

 

He’s made his decision and that’s when he calls his mum. 

 

When he pulls up at the stadium the game has almost started. The stands are filled with thousands of people and Eric is almost blinded by all the blue and white. It’s still strange seeing the new stadium. It’s not White Hart Lane anymore but the Rise Stadium.There’s no one who calls it that though. Inside the dressing room it’s still The Lane and Dele lovingly calls it White Hart Lane Reloaded. More than once Eric caught himself referring to it the same.

 

It’s a nice stadium though, bigger but still accepting and Eric’s slowly getting used to it. First season is almost done and Eric is ready for it to end.

 

He thanks his mum for letting him borrow her ticket to sit in the stands. He could have just phoned the club to grant him access but he’s not here to sit with his teammates, not ready for the cameras to pick him up. Normal is what he’s going for if that’s even possible. Sunglasses should do it, he thinks.

 

The sky above the stadium is filled with heavy clouds and there’s definitely rain coming. It’s English weather even in early May and  for once Eric is  a tiny bit glad he doesn’t have to play.

 

When he finally finds his seat somewhere at the top, it’s the first time he can actually take in the atmosphere completely. He’s been in stadiums before, has watched games of football, but this is different. It’s  _ his _ stadium and those are  _ their _ fans cheering and shouting. There aren’t many free seats and he can see the green pitch perfectly while staring at the goal opposite the pitch. It’s miniature but it’s enough.

 

The air smells like joy and anticipation with a hint of wet grass and it’s seeping through all of Eric’s pores. He doesn’t expect just being here having that much of an impact, but he’s glad he’s got space. 

 

Observing is good.

 

“Eric?” Someone asks and Eric turns to his left surprised. María is looking at him through her dark lashes with a smile tugging at her lips. She’s wearing a black Beanie, hiding almost all of her blond hair, stadium leaflet clasped in her hand. She’s two seats away from him, the one between them is empty. He doesn’t know if there’s still someone coming or not. The game is nearly about to start.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”   _ No one did _ , Eric thinks because it’s the truth. 

 

“It was a spontaneous decision.”  he explains. “Got to support the team right?” He tries to smile genuinely and he almost succeeds. María laughs before fumbling with the brochure. “Oh this is one of my favorite songs.” she exclaims when Eric’s phone starts ringing in his pocket. It’s one of the songs he’s got from the mixtape and maybe he’s bought all of the songs on itunes to get them on his phone and maybe he made one of them his ringtone. 

 

Something clicks inside of Eric’s head and his mouth falls open. It’s got to be a sign. His mouth closes shut when he remembers that is phone is still ringing and he hastily tries to answer it. He’s fumbling and nervous all of a sudden. He misses the call, but it’s just his Mum and he promises himself that he’s going to sent her a text or call her back later.

 

Huh.

 

When the first whistle blows, Eric’s attention is on the game.

 

Eric is surprised, how naturally he gets back into the game. Of course there’s no way to ever forget how the game works but the nervousness and the angst is gone while watching. There’s no place for them while concentrating on something else. He feels the excitement deep in his bones, everyone around him almost exploding. As a player he doesn’t often get the opportunity to just be a fan but in this moment he’s just that and he feels welcome.

 

The fans around him are chanting and singing and it’s spreading like a virus, slowly but with intent and in less than a few minutes everyone is on fire. Eric is burning too, but the fire is only in his heart.

 

His eyes try to find Dele and when he sees him, small like a chess figure he starts concentrating on him. The number 20 is flashing brightly on his back and it makes Eric miss his own number 15. 

 

There are a million colors Eric can see while his eyes follow Dele passing the ball to Chris in the center of the pitch. It’s like a painting Eric doesn’t understand but he’s seeing the beauty behind it and it’s taking all of his attention. He’s never had the opportunity to just observe his best friend playing football, but he’s weirdly intrigued. 

He can see them all, million colours dancing around the pitch. Emotions at the peak, wild and untamed. He can see the fiery red of Dele’s aggression when he’s battling his opponent and the gentle blue of his finesse of controlling the ball.

There’s the orange bite of cheekiness and pink spark of joy he’s giving to his game. Eric can’t help but feel entranced by the event.

 

He feels with him, when Dele misses the goal by a few centimeters. He wants to laugh at him and tease Dele for it, but the lilac cloud of disappointment is embracing him as well, almost choking him and he feels the need to crush Dele in his arms. 

 

He’s not here to hug though, so Eric has to deal.

 

It’s all there, the rainbow that is Dele and Eric loves the combination of rain and sunshine that is accompanying him.

 

They win the game, after an incredible shot from Harry Kane’s right foot and Eric cheers loudly for his teammate. It’s 1:0 for Tottenham in the 69th minute and it stays that way until the 90 minutes are over.

 

Eric stays seated after the game, his knee hurting a bit from standing and he waits until almost everyone makes their way out of the stadium. María walks past him, squeezing herself through the narrow row. They make eye contact for a few seconds, blue staring into blue.

 

“It was nice seeing you.” María finally says and Eric nods goodbye. Her hand is briefly touching his arm and Eric tries to concentrate on the touch, how her hand feels. 

 

Eric’s skin is not itching.

  
  


***

 

Dele’s already waiting for him, dressed in sweatpants with their club emblem, blue with gold stripes, a similar hoody hugging his torso. His cheeks still slightly flushed and hair glistening in the cool evening air. Eric wonders if Dele hurried to get there and waiting in fear to eventually miss Eric’s appearance. Or Eric has been so slow that he’s actually too late. It wouldn’t surprise him but a look at his watch tells him it’s not even five past ten.

 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Dele admits when he spots him and Eric really can’t blame him. He said he wouldn’t be coming and he doesn’t lie often. But there’s nothing in his features that would indicate that Dele is unhappy with Eric being there after all.

 

“So why’d you want to meet?” Eric asks, burying his hands in his pockets. It’s already dark, the sky only lit up by the floodlights of the stadium. There’s not much they can do here this evening. And Eric is definitely not up for a party.

 

“It’s a surprise.” Dele says and Eric hates surprises.

 

***

 

“No.” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Come on Eric.”

 

“And you’re sure, we’re allowed?”

 

“Since when do you bother with permission?” Dele yells from across the pitch and he’s got a point and yet this is something different.

 

The first step on the grass is exhilarating. The soft grass beneath his shoes, dark and drenched with water and sweat. Eric’s holding his breath and he doesn’t know why he’s being so dramatic about this but it feels like chains are pulling at his chest, heavy like iron and thick like steel.

 

When the first step is done, he exhales the breath he’s been holding in and waits. 

 

Nothing happens and Eric wonders what he even expected. Maybe some flashbacks to the incident. Maybe he thought he would feel the pain again that was coursing through him. But there’s nothing except the slight throbbing in his knees and he feels the relief rushing through him. This feels good.

 

He tries to make more steps tentatively and careful like he could break anything if he’s too fast. It feels a bit like learning to walk, even though he’s just learning to trust the pitch again.

 

“Do you want to play?” Dele smirks and Eric thinks for a moment. His heart is the first at yelling at him with aimed pulses at his ribcage, fast and determined. He knows though that he shouldn’t. There’s no way he’s fit enough to run or even play the ball. But it’s half past 10 on a friday night after a home game and Eric really wants to feel the adrenaline rushing through him like it’s using his veins as a highway. 

 

So he nods and hopes he won’t regret it.

 

The first touch of the ball feels like coming home. The second like he’s reuniting with a long lost love and the third one like rain after spending weeks in the desert. It’s weird how football controls his life and how much he actually loves it that he doesn’t even know how much he really missed it. 

 

It’s only been a few months and he’s been without it for longer periods ins his life. There’s a difference though between choosing not to play or not  being allowed to. He feels a smile tug at his lips and the surge of happiness blooming inside his chest like a sunflower, big and yellow. 

 

It’s just him and the ball, everything else forgotten. He and Dele pass the ball between each other for a few moments and it feels good. It’s light and carefree without any pressure. Dele seems to like it too. 

 

It’s dark and the middle of the night, but Eric can still see it. The halo of colours and the smile on Dele’s face. 

 

He doesn’t know how to thank Dele for that. For giving him what he didn’t know he needed. Something he’s been afraid of. It’s not like Eric at all. The whole journey of his injury has made him strangely insecure and confused. Maybe he’s just lost without the ball maybe it’s something else. But he’s here now and he’s starts to crave it all again. He isn’t healed but he knows that he wants it now and if he tries he’s going to be even in better shape than before.

 

And of course it’s then when Dele is trying to do tricks. He takes the ball from Eric and puts it on his feet before running away, twirling it around and nutmegging himself. 

 

Eric gets distracted.

 

It’s like his feet work on their own accord and Eric starts running. The grass is slippery from the rain and he should be more careful but he isn’t. He slips and falls backwards onto the hard ground.

 

For a second the world stops turning. For a minute Eric stops breathing.

 

His heart is skyrocketing but there’s no pain and and his knee doesn’t feel any different.

 

He doesn’t dare to move.

  
  


“Shit! Eric, are you okay?“ Dele is calling and then he’s rushing to him, panic written all over his face, eyes wide. When Eric sees him he can’t help but laugh. It’s loud and echoing, filling the whole stadium. It’s the first time what feels like in ages he gets to do that without any restraints.

 

Dele’s features turn from concern to ‘I want to hit that stupid laugh off your face’ and Eric laughs even more. He can’t stop. He wonders if re-breaking a rib from laughing is possible. He sits up, hands cold, fisting into the grass.

 

“You. Arsehole.” Dele says and shoves him back on the ground.There’s a thud when his back meets the softness of the field and Eric can feel the wetness soaking through his clothes.

 

“I thought something serious happened. If something had happened...Poch would have killed me.“ 

 

“Relax.“ Eric interrupts him, pulling Dele next to him onto the field. He touches his wrist, drawing circles to silence him. “Everything’s fine.” 

 

There's silence between them while both of them stare at the sky. It’s inky and black with no colours in sight.  Eric wishes there’d be stars.

 

“Thank you.” Eric whispers and he’s squeezing Deles wrist. He sees the world a bit  greener now, now that he knows that the pitch is still waiting for him. 

 

“Everything for you.” Dele whispers back. 

  
  


***

_ Bad moon rising - Mourning Ritual _

  
  
  


Eric asks her out on monday.

 

It’s a decision he thinks is right. He has thought about it a lot and he came to the conclusion that he had to try. He listened to the mixtape over and over again and it’s burning his skin. There isn’t anything Eric can’t deny anymore he’s got quite attached and since it’s certainly not possible to have  _ feelings  _ towards an inanimate object, it has got to be the person. Since the mixtape is certainly about feelings it’s a chance that he’d get something out of it. 

 

After Marías comment at the game he’s been thinking and now he’s acting on it.

 

He asks her after their appointment at the training center. Since Eric is able to walk now and without a cast, he’s doing his therapy at Hotspur way. He doesn’t have that much of a problem anymore with being in the proximity of his teammates. The hours on the pitch with Dele gave him the necessary push. 

 

He almost feels reborn, his confidence back.

 

“Do you want to go for dinner sometime?” Eric blurts out and it isn’t graceful at all and he almost stumbles over the words. María looks at him stunned, eyes wide. For a moment she looks like she’s going to say no but then she smiles at him warm and welcome. 

 

“Sim, claro.” She answers in portuguese and Eric smiles back. 

 

It’s easier than he thought and he expects to feel lighter after the question, but he’s not.

 

He blames it on the stuffy air inside the center.

 

***

 

“What was that about?“ Dele greets him before gesturing to María who waves at Eric one last time before she’s disappearing. Her blond ponytail whipping in rhythm of her steps. 

 

“I have a date tomorrow.” Eric says a bit dazed before looking at Dele. He’s dressed in his training kit. Blue shirt and dark blue short with the gold 20 carefully embodied into the fabric. He’s wearing it too.  

 

“A date? I didn’t know you liked her.“ Dele says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

 

Eric doesn’t like the look.

 

“It’s a recent thing.” He tells him because it kind of is and Dele narrows his eyes. He still isn’t really looking at Eric and he doesn’t know why he’s avoiding his eyes. 

 

“Remember the tape I got?” 

 

Dele snorts. “How can I not. It’s all you’ve been listening to for ages.” He smiles brightly, looking at Eric now, but this time it is Eric who looks away. 

 

“Yes. I think it’s from her. I think she sent it to me.” 

 

Dele makes a strangled sound choking on the water bottle that he’s holding to his lips. He looks at him strangely like he’s thinking very hard.

 

“So you asked her out?” 

 

Eric nods.

 

“Huh.” 

 

“Are you okay?“ Eric asks concerned with Dele’s behaviour. It’s like he isn’t really with him. It’s only a second before Dele is back to his old self though, smiling and showing his teeth. 

 

“Yes why wouldn’t I. Congrats, mate.” Dele says and claps him on the shoulder. It’s a bit forceful but Eric can deal.

 

“You’re not the only who got a date by the way. Ben is finally getting it on.“

 

“With whom?” 

 

“Remember Brighton?” Yes, Eric remembers. “Don’t tell me it’s that weird guy from the beach. I didn’t even know they exchanged numbers.”

 

“He wasn’t weird. But yes.”

 

“He didn’t wear a shirt in winter.”

 

“Now you are being a bit dramatic.” Dele laughs before he’s quiet again. “I have to get back to training.“ Dele says and Eric knows he’s lying the way he’s fiddling with his shirt gives him away. 

 

“Alright.” 

 

“See you later-” he says and then he’s gone. Strange, Eric thinks but then he shrugs, before getting ready to drive home.

 

It’s a good day.

 

***

 

It’s not a good day.

 

He gets the text around 8 pm and the first time he reads it it feels like a slap in the face. The second time he gets angry and almost throws the phone against his wall. The third time he’s just confused and the fourth time he’s down right furious. He feels like he’s brewing a storm deep inside his chest. A tornado whirling his emotions into an unpredictable force and he’s ready to kill a man. One in particular.

 

“BAMIDELE JERMAINE ALLI” Eric yells when he storms into Dele’s house. He’s very much angry and fuming at his best friend.

  
  


Ruby is there  smiling when she opens the door but Eric’s sure she regrets as soon as he’s stormed in past her. He doesn’t say hello to her, just straight up got in there. He knows Dele is here. If he’s not at Eric’s he’s in his own home. 

 

Dele is sitting on his couch, laptop in his lap, legs stretched out on the dark cushions. He’s not looking frightened when Eric enters and it makes his blood boil even more. There’s not often the situation that Eric wants to yell at Dele but today he wants to scream. Today there won’t be any whispers just hot explosive words. Dele’s definitely gone too far.

 

“Hi Eric.” Dele waves at him looking innocent and it sets Eric off. 

 

“Oh shove your  _ ‘Hi Eric’ _ somewhere else. I know it was you.” He says through gritted teeth. His heart is pounding violently, raising his pulse to 180. The words seem to have the desired effect because he notices Dele inhaling sharply. There’s a spark of fear lightning up his dark eyes and Eric feels the satisfaction in his bones. 

 

“Why’d you that. Huh? Friends don’t do that.” 

 

“I’--” for a moment Dele looks like he doesn’t know what to say, which is odd, because Dele always knows what to say. It’s how he functions. 

 

“I didn’t expect you to be so mad,” Dele explains and he looks vulnerable all of a sudden and it doesn’t fit the situation. He’s not the one allowed to look vulnerable or even hurt.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be mad? You just ruined my date, which  I was actually really looking forward to!” Eric grips his hair in frustration. “ I can’t believe you called her!-” 

 

“Oh.” Dele gives a surprised sound and the vulnerability in his eyes is gone instead they turn cold.

 

”Yeah I’m not sorry about that.” He says face hard, arms crossed in front of his  chest. He’s standing now, laptop abandoned.

  
  


“Well you fucking should be!“ Eric says raising his voice again. He feels like a Vulcan - tension running high- his skin hot and fizzing. “Telling her that asking her out was just a silly bet? This was just plain cruel. Not only does she think i’m an arsehole now but what about her? Didn’t you think it would hurt her, too?” 

 

Dele looks guilty at the words but then he’s guarded again.

 

“She just isn’t the right person for you.” Dele says and Eric wants to hit something. 

 

“You don’t even know her,” he says eyes spitting fire. Because really? What business of his was it anyway.

 

”Well neither do you.” Dele shoots back and Eric knows he’s right or maybe he isn’t. 

 

“That’s not true.“ he argues, because he knows her.  He  _ knows _ her. He thinks about the tapes and his heart starts beating again.

 

“You had no right to do that.” Eric says, his voice steady now and he isn’t yelling anymore, but his face feels like stone. He shakes his head angrily and unable to understand  and now Dele’s the one getting hyped. 

 

“Well fuck you,” he spits and then he’s out the door and Eric stands there stunned in the middle of Dele’s living room lost for words.

  
  


***

_ Talk -  Coldplay _

 

 

“I don’t understand what’s Dele’s problem,” Eric sighs before plopping himself down on the couch, avoiding putting pressure on his leg. He’s exhausted, more emotionally than physically but he’s feeling it all in his bones. Fighting with Dele is never good and it somehow affects every fiber of his being.

 

“It’s not that hard to guess actually,” Ruby says walking into the room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. She sits herself next to him and pours them two glasses of whiskey. Eric looks at her surprised. Her brown hair is falling over her shoulders in waves, hiding bits of her face. Her lips are red and it fascinates Eric how they are always painted in a different color.

 

“Well, tell me then. Because he acted extremely irrational.”

 

“Not everything is rational. Dele isn’t rational.” Ruby says and Eric knows it’s true. Dele’s impulsive and hot headed. His emotions guide him, lighting him up and sometimes burning not only his own skin.

 

“Doesn’t explain his reaction though,” Eric says because he’s still lost. He doesn’t even know how they arrived here  in the first place. All he knows it that he’s mad at Dele and Dele is  mad at him. It hurts in all the wrong places.

 

“It doesn’t explain why he’s acting like a baby. I didn’t do anything wrong. I have the right to ask her out. It’s none of his business anyway.”

 

“Do you really not know?” Ruby asks, frowning at him. 

 

“Know what? Besides it’s the right thing to do. I did the right thing.” He says taking a sip of the alcohol Ruby has put in front of him. It burns and Eric feels like he deserves it. He’s not on painkillers anymore, so it’s okay.

 

“No.” Ruby says. “You  _ think _ you did the right thing. There’s a difference.”

 

“What the hell is your problem?” Eric snaps, because the way Ruby is talking to him makes him uneasy and he doesn’t know why she’s treating him like he’s the one at fault.

 

Ruby smacks her red lips and sighs, before looking at him. Her eyes turn gentle and she rakes her fingers through her long hair. 

 

“Eric. Tell me why you asked her out  it. And not the bullshit answer of, because it’s the right thing to do. Tell me your reasons.”

 

“I’m sure you  know why I asked her out.” It’s an easy answer to give but not the truth he knows.

 

“No, I actually don’t.” Ruby says. “Is it because you really like her personality? Because she makes your heart beat faster? Because she makes you laugh? Is it because she’s the only one that really gets you, the only one where you can be fully yourself around? Or does her eyes make you see stars and you want to get lost in them?” Ruby stares at her nails and then back at Eric. 

 

“Or is it because you think she gave you that mixtape you’ve been obsessing over since forever?”

 

So Dele _ had  _ told her.

 

“I-” Eric doesn’t know what to say. The answer is  _ No _ to all of them except one and he doesn’t know, doesn’t know what Ruby is trying to tell him. He wants to say that getting to know someone is the point of dating and that she could be all of this to him, but the thought is weak, so he just lets it go.

  
  


“Oh for god’s sake Eric! Why is it so hard for you to just …” Ruby balls her hands into fists, breathing sharply through her nose. She looks like she is about to strangle him and Eric instantly backs away a bit. 

 

“Men.” She mutters under her breath before smiling at him again. It’s not a nice smile but a frustrated one and Eric’s still not sure what Ruby wants from him. He doesn’t know what anyone wants from him these days.

  
  
  


“You can’t really answer any of these questions with yes, can you?” Ruby shakes her head in disbelief. “Wow. Just wow.”

 

“Instead of being cryptic you could just tell me what’s going on.”

 

“ I don’t think I can.”

 

“Why not? Apparently you know what’s going on, so why don’t you just tell me, so I can apologize and go home.”

 

“You  wanted to wait all night until Dele comes back?”

 

“Yes.” Eric says because it seems the only logical thing to do and he doesn’t want to fight with Dele, he wants everything but.

 

“This is so sweet.” 

 

“I just don’t like it when we fight, so can you please tell me?”

 

“I would, but this is really not on me, Eric. And I think you already know. Deep, _very_ deep inside you you know.”

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

“Go home, mate. Go home and figure it out. I will take care of him, when he gets back. Or if he even gets back. I’m sure he’s looking for one of the Hickfords.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah you’re probably right. Thank you.  You are a great girlfriend to him.” Eric says and Ruby closes her eyes as if it’s painful to hear those words.

 

“Please Eric. Do me and yourself a favor and think. You already know, he knows and I can’t watch anymore so just.   _ Figure it out. _ ”

 

She tosses something at Eric and then she’s leaving him behind on the sofa of his best friend who isn’t talking to him.

 

He weighs the recorder in his hands, stroking it.. It’s similar to the one he found in his mail months ago. Similar to the one with the tape of  music he’s been listening to for the last few months. He wonders what it means. 

 

***

_ I’m not in love - 10cc _

 

 

Eric figures it out. 

  
  


Maybe he’s always known it, maybe he just didn’t want to accept it. But It’s midnight and he suddenly knows. He’s in his bed, cuddled beneath his blankets but he’s restless. In his mind there are voices constantly fighting, yells and softly spoken and Eric can’t sleep. 

  
  


After Ruby sent him home, Eric is pacing and he can’t find any rest. He briefly wonders if he should call Dele, but pushes the thought away immediately. If someone should be calling him it would be Dele. He’s not the one who fucked up.

 

He groans before burying his head in his hands. Fucking Dele.

 

_ Figure it out _ .

 

The words haunt him and he tries, really tries but he’s not sure if he’s really able to make himself hope, make himself even allow to think about. It’s a scary thought and but it all makes sense. It all makes an incredible amount of sense and Eric likes all things that makes sense, but it’s a different kind of caliber. It’s not logical sense.

 

_ He really cares about you. _

 

Dele does care about him and Eric cares about him too. It’s kind of a given how close their friendship has been since they met.

 

Everything they’ve ever done is being each others’ rock and sometimes Eric feels like Dele’s the only one who understands, understands the real him, the only one he feels home with and

 

_ Home. _

 

Oh fuck.

 

There’s no way he will find any sleep now. His heart is beating fast and hammering against his ribcage. This revelation lets his adrenalin run high and he sits up in his bed, his head almost banging against his wall.

 

And there it is again, the fucking sense. It’s logical and yet more confusing than any maths could ever be.

 

_ Love _ . Does he love him?

 

Eric runs his hands through his hair before rubbing his eyes. 

 

He does. It’s something he doesn’t know but yet it’s a revelation that’s not groundbreaking. He’s not shocked , not really. It make sense.

 

_ You’re good for each other. _

 

So even his mum knew? Eric feels strange and stupid like a kid who didn’t see the obvious. Like a little boy asking his teacher where the forest is while staring at the trees. 

 

The tape is lying on his night stand and when Eric eyes rake across them something dawns on him and he feels even more stupid. It’s a miracle Dele didn’t slap him the day before and the memory of their fight slices through him sharp like a knife. 

 

Dele loves him. 

 

Eric finally understands.

 

So that’s it? But he doesn’t know how, doesn’t know what exactly is going to happen now. What if Ruby is wrong? She didn’t tell him anything but Eric figured it out. He figured it out about himself and he doesn’t really think he’s wrong on everything that’s Dele. He’s never been before.

 

Nothing excuses what Dele did though and Eric is still pissed. He’s pissed but he understands it now.

 

His skin isn’t itching anymore but it’s burning and there’s still one question hanging above him, grey and dark.

 

What was he going to do?

  
  


His head isn’t fully wrapped around the issue but it’s a lot clearer now. The fog inside has been lifted a bit but the pain in his heart  is still there.

 

He doesn’t know. They should talk that’s what’s the most logical thing is, but Eric has enough logic for one day. He’s tired. Talking would have to wait.

 

***

 

They don’t talk. Dele flies to China with the club and Eric stays in London.

 

***

_ From the Dining Table - Harry Styles _

 

 

Eric doesn’t hear from Dele for a whole week so he spends it on the internet.

  
  


He doesn’t google things like ‘What to do when your best friends fucks up and sabotages your date but you are actually both in love with each other.’ Even though he’s sure there are probably thousands of results involving such a problem. 

 

There are movies made about it. 

 

Instead he googles his accident. He finds it on youtube.

 

It’s strange watching himself on the pitch and it feels like an outer body experience. He actually flinches when De Bruyne crashes into him and his knee and foot tingle at the footage. He almost closes his laptop again, the memory too painful but he’s curious. He wants to see what happened after. The things he can’t remember are resurfacing in his mind and there’s more to it than his eyes can show him.

 

There’s a huddle on the pitch, medics and players and it’s difficult to see much of what is happening but Eric is only looking for one person. He sees Dele pale and distraught at the side, Harry is running to him, squeezing his shoulders, probably saying something to him. Eric can’t really tell. It’s like switch is flipped and suddenly Dele is at Eric’s side and the hands cradling his head flicker back inside his memory.

He doesn’t like seeing Dele like this, lost and terrified and he doesn’t like being the cause of it. He wants him happy.

 

He misses Dele. It’s what he can admit now it’s what he’s allowed to do now. He misses Dele being in his house, wrecking his living room. He misses the  smell of freshly picked roses and the slow beating of his heart. He hates that they fight and he hates that he’s not the one he can call for comfort right now.

 

_ And wow. How didn’t he know. _

 

***

 

María calls him when he’s at the supermarket shopping for groceries. It’s the day Dele is supposed to come back with the club visiting Asia. It’s ironic, Eric thinks.

 

She tells him that Dele called her and explained everything to her and that he apologised. It’s great news and Eric feels some of the stones in his stomach dissolve.

 

“I still don’t feel comfortable working with you anymore.”  Eric understands.

 

***

 

The first thing Eric sees when he gets home is something gold and giant. The colours blinding him and he’s not sure if he can actually trust his eyes. There are big giant balloons in his livingroom. Letters of approximately one meter in height staring at him and Eric can’t believe this is happening.

 

“Ruby.” he swears under his breath and his grocery bags drop to the floor. He really really needs to change his locks. How is it that everytime he enters his house someone is redecorating his living room. 

 

He thinks about the pillow fort Dele built for him and the memory tears at his heartstrings, so he shoves the thought away.  He takes his phone out of his jeans pocket, before dialing the familiar phone number.

 

“Really?” he says instead of a hello and he’s greeted  with a chuckle on the other end in return.

 

“Hello Eric. I see you saw my little present.”

 

“What the fuck, Ruby? How did you even get into my house?” He doesn’t even know why he’s angry or just really irritated. Maybe it’s because he wants  to solve the situation on his own and not with anymore help. Especially because it involves Dele and it’s a sensitive subject to him. Apparently.

 

“Oh come on. Relax a bit. I stole Dele’s keys. Not a big deal.”

 

“Of course you did.” Eric sighs. “Listen I know you mean well but… really?” 

 

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Ruby asks before breaking out into laughter on the other side and Eric rolls his eyes. “Oh would you look at that. I already did.” 

 

Eric’s eyes turn back to the balloons  and his hand balls into  fist. 

 

COMMUNICATION: Shiny and floaty in front of his window. 

 

“I’m serious. You have to communicate. I know you are both stubborn as shit but it’s no excuse and frankly i’m tired. Do you hear me TIR-ED.” she sighs dramatically and Eric is very close to hanging up the phone.

 

“How do you know we haven’t talked already?” Eric asks because he  _ is _ stubborn.

  
  


“Because Dele came home looking like someone stole his cookie and it’s not easy to be civil with him when he’s like that. Also he’s here and not with you.” Her voice turns soft again.

 

”I love you both and it hurts me too, seeing you both so miserable-” 

 

“I’m not miserable,” Eric interrupts her and Ruby snorts. It’s not an attractive sound but somehow Ruby makes it sound graceful and he feels weirded out. 

 

“Hmm.” Ruby says and it’s abundantly clear that she doesn’t believe him one bit.

 

“I’m miserable.” He admits. He’s missing Dele and it doesn’t make it better that he now knows what he’s actually feeling, knows what their relationship has always been about. It’s been calm for years and now the storm had finally reached them, a whirlwind of emotions.

 

He knows they need to talk. That’s not the problem. He wants to be England captain one day, take over responsibility. How’s that going to work when he can’t even do that for his relationships. 

 

He doesn’t know why his emotions hate him.

 

“How are you so okay with it?” He asks because it suddenly dawns on him that he’s talking with Dele’s  _ girlfriend. _

 

“Not everyone is as oblivious as you, you know. I knew I didn’t have any chance with him like five minutes into our first date. All he did was keep talking about you. We’re friends Eric. Nothing more.” 

 

It’s weird that hearing those words actually hurt him. He should be happy about it and he is, but there’s still the thing that Dele didn’t think about telling him. Self protection, Eric thinks.

 

“So you really don’t mind?”

 

“I am happy with what I have. I have my career and I can never be thankful enough about what Dele has enabled me to do. The least thing I can do is help him find happiness.”

 

“Thank you.” Eric says and he means it. “I correct my statement from earlier. You aren’t a great girlfriend. You are a great friend.” 

 

“ I know.” she says and Eric smiles. 

 

“Now go get your boy. He made the first step. Now it’s your turn.” And then she hangs up.

 

Communication it is and Eric has a plan.

 

***

_ I want to write you a song - One Direction _

 

 

Eric sends him a text.   _ Come over? _

 

It’s neutral enough. Ruby is right and they really need to talk. Dele needs to explain and he deserves to hear some things too. It’s how they go from here that matters.

 

Eric does get an answer back late at night. It only says   _ Tomorrow _ . So tomorrow it is.

 

Eric is nervous. Actually nervous and it freaks him out. He’s never been so nervous in his life, but today he is. Dele is coming and they’re going to talk. He’s nervous but also excited and determined and he just really hopes he isn’t wrong.

 

Dele comes over at 1pm looking not very excited to see him but maybe it’s just because he doesn’t know. But Eric does. He awaits him standing in front of the golden balloons striking a pose, welcoming him. Eric thinks it’s funny because it actually is and he doesn’t know what to do with those big ass balloons. He’s communicating and Ruby would be proud. Dele actually huffs out a laugh at the sight and Eric counts it as a win.

 

There’s tension tangible in the air when both of them take a seat at Eric’s dinner table, neither of them saying something.

 

After a few minutes of silence, Eric comes to the conclusion that he actually doesn’t want to say anything, he just wants to stare. It’s been only a week since he’d realised that he’s in love with his best friend and it’s the first time he actually  _ sees _ him. 

 

It’s the first time Eric can actually admire him with the full knowledge of what it’s doing to him and his heart and it’s not an opportunity he wants to pass.

 

So maybe they shouldn’t talk.

 

Dele’s staring into space clearly waiting on Eric to start talking and Eric takes the moment to take him in. He watches the delicate fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, Eric poured them both. Long and graceful, the golden ring he’s always wearing present. Eric never had a thing for hands but maybe he’s starting to have one now. There’s so much to Dele Eric never noticed and he’s mapping him now, every little detail of his face, the dark skin and the cuts in his eyebrows. The warm colour of a cozy autumn day in his eyes and the lips Eric has no problem to be kissing.

 

He wants to kiss him. 

 

He wants to bite along his collarbones and drape his own body all across his skin. He wants to bury his face in Dele’s neck and inhale the scent of him.  He’s is glowing like the sun and Eric wonders how he could ever mistake him for the moon and not the center of his universe.

 

He can’t help but smile.

 

“Sooo.” Dele finally breaks the silence between them and Eric breaks out of his trance but he’s not wiping the smile off his lips.

 

“You wanted to talk?” Dele asks and he doesn’t look frightened but not very confident either. It’s endearing and heartbreaking at the same time, because what does Dele think Eric is going to say?

 

“Right.” He says and nods. 

 

“Before you say anything, Iet me explain.” Dele suddenly says rushed as if time is running out for him to say something and Eric does not expect it. He’s listening carefully.

“I’m sorry.” Dele says and it’s honest. “What I did was wrong and I apologized to María straight away. She doesn’t deserve this.  _ You _ don’t deserve  this and I’m sorry.”

 

“Dele-” Eric tries to interrupt. 

 

“No, please I’m not done yet. There are a few things that I have to say and If I don’t say them now I will probably never do it. I tried before but apparently it didn’t work, so please. Just listen okay?” He rambles and Eric has to bite his lip to keep from saying something.

 

“María didn’t send you the tape.” He starts, fingers fiddling with the chains around his neck hanging loosely over his green t-shirt. Eric likes that shirt on him. The way it hugs his muscles and the way it brings out his eyes. It looks comfortable as well and Eric wonders what it would be like to feel the soft fabric underneath his fingers. He’s getting distracted but Dele’s words deserve all his attention so he focuses back on them.

 

“ _I_ did.”

 

Eric knows that Dele’s the one behind the music but it still is something else to hear him say it out loud. It makes it real and it causes a thrill running down Eric’s spine. He takes a sip from his tea.

 

“And you’re probably wondering  _ why _ I made you a tape.” Dele looks at him briefly and then avoids his eyes, staring right at the golden Letters behind Eric. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

 

“There are a few reasons actually. When that accident happened I was scared and it made me realise  a lot. About myself , about you. The first reason I made you a tape was to distract you and to give you some comfort.“ 

 

He breathes again. 

 

“The second reason was to distract myself. Making myself busy and not think about things.” Dele’s eyes flicker back to Eric’s and looking at him directly now, intense and thoughtful. 

 

“The third reason was just me trying to tell you something that I wasn’t ready to do. But I think I’m ready now.“ He says. He’s still tense, Eric can tell. He can see his brain working, mouth opening a few times but no words coming out. Eric can see that he’s struggling, fingers drumming on the dark wood. He wants to reach over the table, intertwine their fingers so he would stop.

 

“And what’s that?” Eric asks, because he has to. His chest is tightening in anticipation, heart rate picking up.

 

“I love you.” It’s three simple words that walk all over Eric’s heart and into his brain leaving their footsteps all over his skin. He feels like he’s sitting in a pile of ants, skin tingling and itching at the words. It’s surreal hearing them but it makes Eric smile from every fiber of his being. He has to concentrate to not just blurt out something stupid. 

 

Dele doesn’t say anything else, but his eyes are pleading and Eric isn’t an asshole or well that much anyway so he breaks the silence.

 

“I know.” It’s  saying two simple words right back and Dele’s face changes from terror to confusion.

 

“You knew?” He sputters  and the expression on his face is so ridiculous that Eric can’t help but allow the tiny laugh bubble out from his lips. He shrugs before taking another sip from his tea. It’s not that hot anymore and the cold liquid is slowly losing any kind of flavor. He grimaces.

 

Dele doesn’t say anything else because maybe he doesn’t know what and besides it’s Eric’s turn now.

 

“I’ve made you something, too.” He says before standing up and walking into his kitchen. When he returns, Dele is still sitting at his dinner table, eyes focused on his hands, teacup abandoned in front of him. The rain can be heard outside, tapping against the window like a  guest wanting to come inside. 

 

“Here.” Eric says and hands Dele something. Their fingers brush shortly and there’s isn’t the spark he expected but it burns and Eric feels the urge to just grab his hand.

 

Not yet. He tells himself.

 

“That’s an Ipod.” Dele states and Eric rolls his eyes. It’s pink and not one of the newest models but it’s doing its job, Eric thinks. His sister was kind enough to loan it to him.

 

“Turn it on.” Eric says when Dele just looks at him lost and clearly not knowing what Eric wants from him. It feels satisfying for Eric to know that he isn’t the one being clueless today. 

 

“Who even uses Ipods anymore?” Dele mumbles but complies nonetheless. “Who uses tapes?” Eric shoots back because he has to and besides it’s one hint he can give him.

 

“There’s only one song on it.” 

 

“ I know.”

 

Dele still doesn’t look like his normal self. He isn’t smiling and looking so vulnerable that Eric wants to scoop him in his arms. He knows he’s mean, because Dele’s just told him he loves him and Eric didn’t say anything back. Thinking about those words are still a weird concept but he likes them and he’s confident that everything will work itself out. 

 

Maybe.

 

Dele puts the earplugs into his ears and presses play. Eric watches his reaction carefully, every muscle in his face. He starts laughing when Dele grimaces, because it looks ridiculous. When Dele face turns stormy as he takes the earplugs out Eric sobers up pretty quickly.  Dele throws the ipod back at Eric before standing up and facing Eric.

 

“So this is all a joke to you?” He asks, voice trembling and Eric has never seen him like this and it makes his stomach flip painfully.

 

“I’ve never thought you’d be that person. I told you I love you and you just…” He’s clearly hurt and that’s not what Eric wanted at all.

 

“Dele...” He says and he’s standing too now, reaching for his hands. Touch means comfort and his friend is definitely in need of something. Dele doesn’t flinch away, when Eric fingers brush his pulsepoint and Eric can feel the beat of his heart beneath his fingertip, wildly and erratic.

 

“Did you listen to the song.” Eric asks and Dele’s face darkens and tries to pull his hands away, put Eric just holds them tighter.

 

“Did you listen to the song.” He repeats and he’s looking directly into Dele’s brown eyes, warm and honest like a cut open tree. Eric can see his age in it. That’s something Eric always appreciated, no matter how hard his face, or his jaw set to stone, Dele’s eyes have always showed how he’s feeling. They’re softer than his expression and Eric feels the relief washing over him. 

 

“Did you  _ listen _ , like I listened to your tape?” He asks gently and Dele frowns. “What’s there to listen. It’s a stupid song.” And Eric laughs, because it is a stupid song.

 

“Repeat the words for me.” He asks because maybe that’s how Dele will finally understand.

 

Dele looks like he wants to do anything but, eyes flickering around the room for a moment before he’s looking back into Eric’s reluctantly.

 

“I love Eric Dier.” Eric smiles .” And Eric Dier loves me.”

 

“Again.” 

 

“I love Eric Dier and Eric Dier loves me.”

 

“Do you get it now?” Eric asks and for a moment it looks like Dele wants to shake his head but he doesn’t. Instead he’s untangling their fingers and boxes him in the shoulder. Eric would have to lie if he’d say it doesn’t hurt. 

 

“You’re a ..” 

 

“Don’t say it.” Eric warns and Dele breaks out into a grin. 

 

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re even friends.’ 

 

“It’s ‘cause we’re not.” He closes the distance between them and that’s when Eric kisses him.

 

***

_ Can’t help falling in love with you - Haley Reinhart _

 

 

Kissing Dele feels like driving above the speed limit so fast that he’s seconds away from crashing but knowing that he’ll be safe regardless. It’s like someone’s been drowning him in gasoline and Dele’s been the match setting him on fire. He’s burning. Every inch of his body hot to every touch. Dele’s the ocean cooling him, deep and unexplored. There’s soft lips and tongues, teeth and hands and Eric thinks they’ve been at it for hours and yet only seconds.

 

They are not in his living room anymore but somewhere high in the clouds and Eric’s not sure if he wants to come down. So he just stays.

 

***

 

Eric doesn’t know how they ended up in his bedroom, snuggled underneath the covers, Dele’s head pressed against his bare chest. They aren’t naked but not clothed either, fingers playing with each other. It’s comfortable and nice and Eric doesn’t think he wants to get up ever again.

 

“Ughh,” Dele groans when there’s a ring, indicating an incoming text message on his phone. Eric doesn’t want Dele to get up, doesn’t want to miss the warm body next to his heart. 

 

He watches Dele look for his phone on Eric’s bedroom floor and he’s not sorry for staring shamelessly at his jeans clad backside.

 

“What is it?” Eric asks when Dele settles back against him and Eric automatically puts his arms around him. His dark curls are tickling his nose and it smells like it’s freshly washed and Eric wants to bury his nose in it. Instead he  presses a light closed mouthed kiss at the nape of his neck.

 

“It’s Ben.” Dele says. “He wants to know and I quote ‘If you’d finally left your stupidness at home and kissed me senseless.’ He asks if we can go on double dates with him and Luke now.”

 

“Ben knows, too?” 

 

“I think everyone knows. Why’d you think Poch let me stay in hospital with you. He’s kind of already under the impression we were an item. At least that’s what Danny told me.”

 

It’s a lot of information to swallow and Eric feels really stupid. 

 

“Hey.” Dele says and turns in his arms, laying a hand on his cheek.  “It happens to the best of us.” He giggles and Eric slaps his hand away.

 

“Who’s Luke?” Because who is Luke?

 

“Ben’s boyfriend? The shirtless guy?”

 

“I don’t think I want to go on dates  with him. That dude’s weird.”

 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” 

 

“Nope.” 

 

“So that’s what we’re doing now, going on dates. Dating?”

 

“If that’s what you want.”

 

“Mate, I made you a mixtape. Of course I want to date you.”

 

“Weird songs by the way. I don’t know why you’d think they were something for me.”

 

“I don’t know. I quite liked them. Seemed fitting in a way.”

 

“They were. Perfect I mean.”

 

“So it’s that what made you fall in love with me?” Dele asks. Eric shakes his head. 

 

“No. That was all you.” He whispers, because it’s something important. It’s quiet after that.

 

There was never a choice, he thinks.  _ I couldn’t help falling in love with you. _

 

He likes the silence between them. It’s like they’re a whole new Eric and Dele but yet they haven’t even changed at all. 

  
  
  
  
***  
  
  


**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Can't Help Falling in Love With You [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901432) by [ItsADrizzit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsADrizzit/pseuds/ItsADrizzit)




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